


CrossRoads

by Zee_impala_angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Castiel has Anxiety, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Castiel, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Smut, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-05-04 15:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14596047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zee_impala_angel/pseuds/Zee_impala_angel
Summary: Castiel begins having strange and very vivid dreams. He doesn’t think anything of it at first until certain consequences end up affecting both his waking world and his dream world. As the world’s begin to blur, he begins to realize he no longer knows which is a dream and which is real. The closer he gets to his answer the more clear things become, but will he like what he discovers?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first WIP and I’m a little nervous to start this. I’ll post one chapter a week and, if this gets enough interest, I may post more per week. I do not have a beta reader so apologies for any grammatical mistakes. I hope you enjoy this first chapter!
> 
> The tags will be updated as chapters are added (and as i learn what ones to add in general).

He doesn't remember how he got here.

Dean underneath him, gripping his arm as Castiel slowly but steadily thrust in and out of him. The sounds of Dean's quiet whimpers and his own heavy breathing as they moved together joining the sounds of birds chirping as they filtered through the window, the sun just starting to shine through above their bed. Dean's hand squeezed Castiel's forearm as he gave a high pitched whimper signalling Castiel to shift his position, both so used to one another they no longer needed to verbally communicate. Castiel paused his thrusts, shifting his knees up closer to drive in deeper, just how Dean liked it. Dean sighed in content as Castiel got comfortable and continued his steady thrusts.

Dean slid his hands up Castiel's arms and cupped his face making him look down at him. Staring into Dean's eyes, he tried to remember how he got there but just couldn't. The last thing he remembered was sliding into bed the night before, next thing he knew he was here, fucking Dean into the King sized bed they had been sharing the past 3 years.

He wasn't unhappy, not really, he just felt numb. Well not just numb, his heart was pounding hard in his chest as he continued his thrusts, sweat dripping down his face from the exertion and the fact that they were still under a heat advisory and the air conditioning was still broken, but that was a physical sense. Emotionally, he just didn't really feel anything anymore.

Dean's hand slid around to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Leaning in, he deepened it, desperately trying to feel something. Sex had never been like this before and a small part of him was starting to worry. Was this that thing he had been reading about? When couples started to get bored? He wasn't bored, at least he didn't think he felt bored. Life with Dean was challenging and even difficult at times, but it was also always exciting and invigorating. It took them awhile to find their groove as a couple but once they had, well, they couldn't figure out how they'd gone this long without one another. And the sex? They had been doing that, what, a few times a week at least. Bored was far from what he felt.

Then what was it?

Dean moaned into the kiss. Castiel mentally shook his head as he tried to focus on the now; the feel of Dean underneath him, his cock sliding in and out of his lover as they tried to reach that euphoria; Dean's stomach sliding against his as he arched off the bed. He shivered, heat pooling down in his groin as he allowed his body to take in the sensations. Sliding a hand behind one of Dean's knees, he pushed it forward, dropping his head onto his shoulder as he sped up his thrusts. The sound of their bodies moving together grew louder in the large room as the sound of Dean's moans filled his ear, a new wave of energy taking over him. He could feel Dean reach between them and grab his cock, stroking furiously as he tried to match Castiel's new found tempo.

“Cas!”

Castiel groaned as he came, his rhythm faltering as Deans own groans followed seconds after. Breathing hard, he continued to slowly roll his hips for a few moments, pumping his softening cock in and out as he allowed their bodies to slow down and catch their breath. Dean's grip eventually softened and his arms plopped down onto the bed.

After a few moments he pulled out, burying his face in Dean's neck. Trying not to place all his weight on Dean as his arms gave out beneath him proved fruitless, giving up and trying to shift to a comfortable position being all his body would allow. Sleep threatened to take him over, his exhaustion hitting him hard, but the feeling of Dean carding his hands through Castiel's hair as they both panted against one another kept him in the present. How was it that he could be wrapped in his lovers arms and still feel nothing?

Minutes, maybe even hours, went by before Dean finally spoke.

“Is everything okay?”

Castiel continued to breath in Dean's scent, his face still buried in Dean's neck. He knew Dean had asked him a question but he just couldn't find the energy to answer him. Eventually, Dean continued to just card his fingers through his hair when he didn't answer, the feeling being the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Was he falling apart?

__________

Castiel woke to the feeling of Dean lightly slapping his shoulders.

“Hey, wake up. I know we're comfy, but my hips are starting to hurt and I'm starting to feel gross.” With a sigh, Castiel allowed himself to be rolled off of Dean and back onto his own side of the bed. He could hear Dean slide out of bed and move into the bathroom as he kept his eyes closed hoping to fall back asleep.

He felt heavy; like his body was going to drop through the bed and floor and down into the living room. Sleep hadn't helped and the morning sex just made his body tingle with exhaustion. He wanted to go back to sleep but he also wanted to drink some coffee in the backyard while he sat in his favorite chair and stared at the trees lining the edge of their property. It was something he did every morning since they bought the house 2 years ago but for some reason he wasn't sure he'd do it today.

The feel of the bed dipping next to him had him opening his eyes. The room was brighter now with the sun fully up. If Castiel had to guess, it was probably 5 or 6 in the morning.

“Hey, are you okay?” Castiel looked over and saw Dean staring at him, his green eyes shining with concern. He looked away and down at Dean's hands, a washcloth lightly dripping through his fingers.

He wanted to tell Dean no. No he wasn't okay, he was far from it. He wanted to cry and bury himself in his lovers embrace but the words got caught in his throat. For some reason he just couldn't translate his emotions into words that would make sense to Dean, especially when he barely understood them himself. Plus, why worry him when it could be nothing at all? He didn't sleep well and now he was exhausted and still hot from the lack of air conditioning. Imagine that, needing an air conditioning in Wisconsin in October.

Not wanting to make Dean worry, he looked back up at Dean and smiled. “Yea, it's just too damn hot in here.”

Dean chuckled and scooted closer to him. “Here, this should help.”

Castiel sighed as Dean ran the cold cloth over his skin, cleaning up the now dried cum on his chest. His skin felt alive as the sensations from the cold water and the cloth moved over his body, as if these feelings alone were going to piece him back together.

He reached out his hand and gripped Dean's calf, his thumb running circles into his shin. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean smiled and leaned over to kiss him. “I need to shower, you wanna join me?”

__________

He felt a little better now that he was showered and dressed sipping his coffee as Dean pulled his work boots on. It was something they did every morning Dean had to work. Castiel would get up with him, they'd both shower, sometimes together and sometimes not, he'd make coffee as Dean put his work stuff on and then they'd kiss goodbye as Castiel would hand over Dean's thermos. Once Dean would leave he'd take a second cup to the back porch until he felt awake enough to attack the day.

Something was different today though.

After their shower he managed to go through the motions, but he couldn't help but analyze every move Dean made. The way Dean's fingers moved as he tied his shoes, how he always frowned as if the task was the worst thing he'd do all day. How his construction shirt showed off his farmers tan, the lines more obvious every time his sleeves moved up too high. The way Dean looked at him when he was concerned.

Oh.

“Cas?”

Castiel shook his head, blinking as he became aware of his surroundings. Dean was standing right in front of him, one hand on Castiel's left cheek. “W-what?”

Dean frowned, sliding his thumb up and down his cheek. “I was asking you about your plans for today, are you okay? That's the second time I've lost you today and it's only 6.”

He had to look away at that. What could he say? He wasn't okay, but he wasn't not okay enough to make Dean worry. Right?

“Yea..”, he cleared his throat, trying to find an excuse Dean would believe, “I didn't sleep well last night, I'm just tired is all.” Looking back up at Dean he gave a small smile. Dean continued to frown at him, eyes flitting back and forth between Castiel's eyes as if studying his answer. He always did that and Castiel loved him for it.

Eventually Dean looked away and grabbed Castiel's coffee mug out of his hands and set it down on the counter. “Well, maybe you should lay off the coffee and take a nap?” He offered, eyes round with question as he met his gaze again.

“I don't need sleep.” He responded instantly.

Wait, no. That wasn't true anymore. He was human now, but he knew that. He remembered that. How could he not? He remembered every time he laid down for bed when his body reminded him he was tired or when his head got all loopy after a few beers with dinner. He remembered every time he looked up into the sky and remembered that angels, heaven, weren't there anymore. He remembered every time he went into town and drove past that church. He remembered every time he woke up in the morning. Every time his stomach growled for food. Every time he stubbed his toe or jammed his finger or required a shower. He always remembered.

“Cas…”

Castiel gave a nervous chuckle as he looked down at their feet. He could feel a building pressure in his chest, his breath starting to slowly quicken. Why was he freaking out? There was no need to freak out. Was there? The sides of his vision began to blur as his heart rate started to pick up. He felt like he was being chased and was running for his life. He knew he was standing in his own kitchen but couldn't shake the feeling of being in danger. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“Hey hey hey.” He felt hands cradle his face. “Cas look at me. Babe, please, what's going on?” Castiel couldn't lift his head to look at Dean. He felt paralyzed in his spot, as if moving would be the end of him. “Shit!”

The feeling of hands on his face were gone and he felt the panic rise up even higher. Eternity went by as he tried to figure out what to do. Should he sit? Should he stay put?

A cold sensation shot up his arm from his hand. Seconds later cold hands were cradling his face. The sensations shot him out of his mind and he gasped. He realized that Dean was talking to him and looked up into his eyes.

“Shh shh shh, it's alright. Come back to me, Cas. You're safe, it's okay. I'm here. Cas, babe, please come back to me.”

He blinked a few times and tried to focus on Dean's whispered words. His body was hyper aware of the cold hands on his face and the cold, and now wet, thing in his left hand. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, burying his face in Dean's neck again. He smelt like a forest and home. Castiel took a deep inhale as if he was trying to drown in the smell of Dean. As arms wrapped around him, he began to relax, allowing his breathing to slow down.

After a few minutes his body started to grow heavy on his legs. Dean must have sensed his dilemma as he moved them both towards the kitchen table, gently pushing Castiel's shoulders down to get him to sit. He obeyed, plopping down and sighing.

“Hey, are you with me?” Dean asked, a hand running over Castiel's thigh.

The cold and wet thing in his hand started to drip through his fingers. Opening his palm, he looked down and saw the last bits of a melting ice cube. It slid around in his hand as he tilted it side to side, watching as the melting piece moved around in the growing puddle. Some of the water began to drip down the sides of his hand as he slowly closed his grip again, the feeling drawing him back into his body. The more he stared at his wet hand the more he realized how not wet his other hand was. Closing them together, he interlocked his fingers waiting for the last bit of the ice cube to melt away.

Taking another deep breath, he sighed giving a small nod. “Yea.”

“Do you know what set you off?” Dean wasn't demanding an answer, his concern evident in his voice.

“I don't know.” Castiel shook his head. “One moment I was drinking my coffee and the next I was having a panic attack.”

They both sat there, Cas in the kitchen chair and Dean kneeled between his legs. He watched as Dean looked down, his lower lip pulled into his mouth as he chewed it in thought. He knew that Dean knew what set him off. These panic attacks were nothing new, having one maybe once every few months. It started a few months after Heaven had finally faded away 4 years ago. Castiel had retained some of his angelic powers but with heaven gone they eventually all just disappeared. The worst day was when his wings faded. Dean knew the drill, but it never made it any easier on either of them. These past few weeks being even harder since it was the anniversary of heaven officially “going out of business” as Dean would sometimes say.

“Maybe I should call into work. Stay here with you in case it happens again?” His eyes met Castiel and they stared at one another for a moment. He was letting Castiel choose. For some reason that realization made a warmth build in his chest. For the second time today he was reminded why he loved this man.

Castiel smiled as the last bits of panic fell off his shoulders, clearing his mind. “No.” He raised his hand as Dean opened his mouth to protest. “I'll be okay. I think I'm going to just rest today instead of work in the shed.”

Dean sighed, but nodded. “Alright.” He stood up and pulled Castiel into a hug. “Just promise you'll call me if you start to feel it happening again, okay? I can be here in 10 minutes.”

Castiel pulled back and frowned. “That's if you're speeding.”

Dean leaned down and kissed him. “As fast as baby can go.” They both chuckled before finally letting go of one another.

Dean grabbed his bag as he headed to the front door, turning to give a small wave goodbye. “I'll see you tonight. Call if you need me!”

Castiel gave a small wave back. “I will. Promise. And say hi to Sam for me!” Castiel stayed where he stood, listening as Dean climbed into the Impala and started the engine before backing out of the gravel driveway.

It wasn't long before he finally decided to move, climbing back up the stairs and into their bedroom. If he couldn't calm down now then there would be no way he could calm down before they headed out after dinner. He barely remembered to strip out of his jeans and shirt before he was collapsing onto his bed letting sleep finally take him back over.

__________

Castiel awoke with a start, sweat dripping down his forehead as he sat up in his bed. It took him a few seconds before he registered the room he was in. Brick walls, a small dresser to his right and a small desk just ahead? He was in the bunker, specifically the room the brothers had given to him for when he was bored and they were sleeping. Shifting in the bed, he smacked his lips and tongue. A strange taste was in his mouth and he cringed at it. There was something familiar about the taste, if he could just pinpoint what it was.

Noises from down the hall alerted Castiel to movement in the bunker; the boys were awake. They were probably doing some research on a monster hunt, Sam rattling off information as Dean made breakfast. If he waited in the room long enough he could manage to avoid Dean asking him if he wanted coffee.

Coffee!

The memories of his dream flashed through his mind as he finally pinpointed the taste. The coffee he had drank, the panic attack, the house, being human, Dean, the sex...

Oh

Shaking his head he tried to focus on the more obvious problem, the fact that he had dreamt. Never in his million years had he ever dreamt, so why now? And why so vivid? He could almost smell the lingering scent of dream Dean's body spray. There was also that feeling in his limbs, the same feeling he had when his dream self had fallen asleep. Plus, there was that lingering coffee taste in his mouth.

Strange

Slowly he climbed out of the bed, grabbing his trenchcoat off the desk chair. There really wasn't any time to be sleeping; heaven was just starting to get back on its feet and the angels needed his help.


	2. Two

The sounds of the brothers eating breakfast as they talked about a possible hunt echoed down the halls. It was a typical beginning of the day, only Castiel was usually in the library or in the kitchen with them, not sleeping. There was still an eerie feeling in his gut, the phantom taste of coffee still on his tongue as he made way towards the kitchen. A part of him didn't want to bother them; didn't want to ruin their breakfast and, from the sounds of Dean's humming and Sam's slow typing, their happy moods. Why did he always feel like he was ruining something for them? Had he always felt that way? 

“Castiel!”

He paused, a shiver crawling up his vessels spine as he turned towards the nephilim running up behind him. Shock hit him as he realized Jack was alive. Hadn't Jack died? How could he be here smiling right in front of him? 

No. That wasn't right. Jack had survived. So had all of heaven. A rush of his grace washed over him reminding him that that was true. He was a fully powered angel again, thanks to Jack. Memories of their last battle flashed through his mind; it must have been a lapse of memory from his dream. A dream he shouldn't have had. 

Jack stopped in front of him, a big smile still on his face. Castiel gave his own forced smile in return. “Hello, Jack.”

“Were you headed somewhere?”

“I was just heading towards the kitchen to speak with Sam and Dean. Did you sleep well?”

Ever since the battle with Lucifer, Jack had been having a hard time sleeping. Most nights he found himself perched next to the young nephilims bed at night, ready to block out any nightmares that may pop up. Jack never mentioned not being okay with it, so he continued to do so. Well, that was when he wasn't sleeping himself, apparently. 

The nephilims face faltered for a beat, looking away and shuffling his feet before meeting his gaze again. “I managed to get a few hours.”

Sensing his discomfort, Castiel didn't pry. 

“I was actually wondering, if you were going on a mission, if I could join you?” Jack looked up at him through his lashes, hope and nerves seeping through his gaze. 

“Morning guys!” He turned to see Sam standing in the doorway of the kitchen.  
“You going somewhere Cas?” 

“Good morning, Sam.” Jack greeted. 

“Well, actually that's what I wanted to talk to you all about.”

“Cas is leaving?” He heard Dean ask from behind Sam. 

Castiel couldn't help but freeze at the sound of Dean's voice. The sound of Dean's moans echoing in his head as he awkwardly looked away and at Dean's feet. Remembering watching Dean get ready for work just before he had his panic attack. The feel of Dean's hands on his face, arms, back. He hoped no one noticed as he swallowed in discomfort. It was just a dream, nothing more. 

“Yes, and I'm hoping he'll take me on his missions with him!” Jack stated with glee. 

“You want to take Jack on your missions?” Dean asked as he finally stepped around Sam and joined the rest of them in the hallway. His tone already laced with disagreement and Castiel sighed, rolling his eyes. This clearly wasn't going to go as he had hoped. 

Turning his head and meeting the gaze of all three in his company, he made sure no one else had any more questions before continuing. “With heaven back in working order, alternate universe Michael dealt with, and Lucifer finally…” he paused, cautious of Jack's reaction, “...not a threat, I was planning on taking Jack to finish rounding up the lost souls from heaven.”

“What?!” Came Dean's not surprising reaction. He did seem far more upset than usual, causing Castiel to tilt his head in frustrated confusion. It was normal for Dean to argue with his decisions, but this was different. Strange even. Then again, he was still comparing real Dean to dream Dean, so maybe he was just being overly judgemental for no reason? 

Sam sighed at his brother. “I thought with Heaven back in order the souls would just go back?” 

“So did I, and so did heaven. As it turns out, not all of the souls have returned like they were supposed to.”

Dean huffed. “That's your problem how?”

“Dean, these are human souls that don't belong on Earth. If they don't travel back into heaven they'll simply become ghosts and we don't want that.”

Dean rolled his eyes in forced agreement. “Yea, well, haven't you done enough? I mean if it wasn't for you, Heaven wouldn't even exist right now.”

Castiel huffed. “It's my duty to…”

“Yea yea yea, protect humanity and crap we know.” He glared at Dean as the hunter waved his hands in defeat. 

“Cas, look…” Sam started, stepping in front of his brother to grab Castiel's attention, “If you feel like you need to help the angels and heaven or whatever then we're cool with that.”

“We are?”

“But why do you wanna take Jack too? No offense Jack, but, your powers are still spotty and while you've come a long way the past year, you're still a little... unpredictable.” 

Jack nodded in understanding, taking a step forward again. “I know, that's why I was hoping to work with Castiel. He could help me and teach me about my powers.”

He gave a small shrug towards the nephilim. “I wouldn't be able to teach you a lot about your powers, since we still don't know the full extent of your capabilities, and you're the only nephilim I've ever spent extensive time with, but I could help with other things. Is angel radio still bugging you?” 

Jack nodded.

Castiel turned back to Sam, Dean still pouting behind him. “I was briefed on a case in Wisconsin. I'll take Jack and if…” he raised his voice as Dean attempted to protest, “ AND IF something goes wrong then we'll come back here and find a different way to help Jack.” Jack smiled at him while the brothers both just stared. Sam eventually sighed with a shrug while Dean rolled his eyes and nodded. 

“Fine, we have a potential hunt in Nebraska anyways.” Dean and Sam share a look before he continues. “If anything goes wrong Cas, anything at all, you call us and we'll deal with it.” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, a witty retort sitting on the tip of his tongue. Deciding to just accept what he got, he turned towards Jack and nodded for him to follow back down the hallway. “I'll keep in touch.”

He didn't need the Winchester's permission, he just liked keeping them informed. Tracking down human souls that had fallen from heaven was imperative to repairing heaven permanently. It wouldn't be too hard, what could go wrong? 

 

*******

 

The world passed around them as Castiel maneuvered them down the old side roads. He remembered when driving used to infuriate him, taking much longer than flight. Now, after so many years, he'd grown to enjoy it. There was something comforting about taking his time, letting the world move slowly past him instead of in the blink of an eye. Of course they could have just teleported since, with Jacks help, all the angels were able to recover their wings. A smile grew on his face as he remembered that day, stretching his newly healed wings, taking off across the world and back in the blink of an eye. The brothers jumping when he popped into the library, something he hadn't seen in far too long. Laughing at them just before flying off again. It was a day to never forget. 

The memories did remind him of his dream, though. Dream him had been human, powerless and maybe even scared. Heaven had been gone and the angels were all extinct. A shiver ran through him at the thought. To be the only angel on Earth, and to then also be human? It was a good thing it was just a dream. 

“Castiel, why do you always avoid speaking about my father in front of me?” 

Castiel shifted in his seat as he was pulled back from his thoughts. The nephilim was always very blunt and, at times, he appreciated that. This time he had wished there was a little more warning. 

Glancing over a Jack, he gripped the steering and cleared his throat; something he didn't actually need to do but did anyways. “It can be hard to lose a parent, no matter the circumstances.” He looked away as Jack made eye contact and was now watching him closely now. “Losing two must be very hard. I don't wish to upset you unnecessarily.”

“I don't feel upset. My mother didn't trust him, you didn't trust him, Sam and Dean never trusted him. He was…. bad.”

Castiel nodded, eyes back on the road again. “Yes, he was.”

“And I killed him.” Castiel held his breath as he waited for Jack to continue. “I didn't know him, not like I know Sam or Dean, or you. He hurt people, and angels, and I stopped him.”

“You saved many many people, and angels.” Castiel added. 

“Does it make me a bad person to not be sad about his death…”Jack's voice quieted, as if he was ashamed of his question, “that I killed him?” 

He took a deep breath. “No, Jack. It doesn't make you a bad person.” Castiel's mouth moved as he tried to keep going but couldn't find the right words to say. His own bias wanted to praise Jack on having saved the world by killing the devil, but no matter what, Lucifer had been Jack's father, present or not. Jack continued to watch as Castiel struggled to find words. 

“Sometimes, our own actions can surprise us. So long as you remember that you saved the world, then there's no shame in not feeling regret.” 

“I understand.” Jack looked away from him, eyes now straight ahead as well. 

Castiel frowned, feeling as if the conversation had been disappointing to the nephilim. As if he had missed something Jack had been asking. “Your mother would be proud of you.” Jack looked down into lap before looking away through his window. 

Castiel reached over to turn the radio. Music filled the car as they continued on their journey. Jack may be parent-less, but he wasn't without family. Hopefully a few saved souls would help the nephilim feel more accomplished. 

 

******

 

Night time in Wisconsin wasn't much different than Kansas. The bugs still sang along with the trees as they swayed in the evening breeze, the air smelling slightly of rain to hopefully come in the early morning. Every few minutes the sound of a passing car on the county road would filter through the window drowning out Jack's soft snores. 

The nephilim had wanted to jump right into their mission but Castiel had refused his pleas. He had noticed how Jack would periodically rest against the car door and knew the nephilim must have lied about sleeping well the night before. Souls were unpredictable and he didn't want Jack getting hurt because he was too tired to focus. Since the motel was only a few miles away from the soul sighting, they stopped, Jack only surrendering after Castiel mentioned wanting to do research before hand anyways. 

There wasn't much to research. All he was doing at the moment was re reading the news articles for the 10th time. 

"DNR rescue woman stuck in rocks. Davichou claims she was chased by a glowing orb down the railroad tracks before slipping and falling down into the rocks below. This is the third claim of a glowing orb hanging around WI-113 between the ferry and County V." 

"Man jumps from ferry after claiming to have been chased by a glowing light. Three other riders claimed to have also seen the light and 24 year old Koviet jumping after seeming to have been chased around the vehicles on board." 

 

The souls he had helped round up the past few weeks were not as active as this one seemed. Hopefully Lailah would have some ideas when they meet in the morning. 

“Mom?” 

The sound of Jack shuffling in his bed caused Castiel to turn towards him. The nephilim's eyes were squeezed shut as his head moved side to side in distress. He was having another nightmare. 

“Mom! I'm coming!” 

Castiel stood from the table and headed over towards Jack. Gently, he placed his hand over Jack's forehead sending grace out to help him sleep. After a few seconds the nephilim relaxed, his breathing pattern returning back to normal. 

Castiel sighed, sitting down on the bed across from the nephilims. He wished he could do more for Jack than just ease his nightmares. He'd been through enough as a new soul, with losing his mother, being trapped in another world with strangers, then being tasked with killing his father. He was only a year old. Castiel didn't remember his first year very well, but he knew he never had come close to dealing with the things Jack had. 

Lying back, he decided to give his own vessel some rest. Of course he didn't require sleep, but he'd learned that allowing his vessel rest did make missions slightly easier. Closing his eyes, he sighed, hoping morning would come a little bit faster. 

 

*****

 

Castiel opened his eyes with a squint, the afternoon sun beating down on his face. He groaned, shoving his face down into the pillow.

“Mom?”

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut willing that voice to go away. Today was going to be and had already been, hard enough. Dreaming about and hearing his voice? That was something he could do without.

“Castiel!”

“JACK!”

He gasped as the unwanted memories flashed behind his closed eyes. Lifting his arms from under the pillow, he draped them over his head in an attempt to hide beneath them. His fingers scraped his scalp as he searched for something, anything to grab and hold onto. Before he knew what was happening, his knees were curling up underneath him towards his chest. This was another panic attack. Great.

“Mrowr”

The feeling of Milo laying on his back pulled him out a little bit. Forcing the panic down, he focused on the weight on his back as the cat climbed up and laid down. Milo started purring, the vibrations acting as a sooting massage, melting away his panic as the cat purred in his ear. Everything felt like too much and yet not enough but the purring ball of fur was helping.

After a few moments Milo stood up, his little paws shaking as he stretched himself.

“Thank You.” Castiel muttered into his pillow. 

 

“Mrowr.” “Mrowr.” Turning his head, he met the blueish green eyes of the cat he had adopted. Something in the cats eyes told him that everything was going to be okay; if only he could allow himself to believe it.

Milo jumped off him and the bed, Castiel watching as the black and white cat wandered over towards the bedroom door. He sat up on his elbows, pillow crushed between his arms, as he watched the cat with interest. Milo looked back at him and moewed again. 

“What?” 

“Mrowwwr!” 

“Use your words.” 

Milo sat and stared at him, displeasure evident in the tiny cats black and white face. Amused, Castiel chuckled and reached over to grab his cell off the nightstand, the now lit up screen revealing it was 12:34pm. The lock screen photo caught his eye and he couldn't help but smile. It was a photo of Dean and Sam in the backyard. He couldn't remember when the photo was taken and he frowned at the lack of memory, but what he did know was it had been far too long since Sam had been over. So long that he didn't even remember the last time he'd seen Sam. It was unfortunate that tonight would be the one to break the pattern. 

Sighing one more time at the clock, he turned back to his distressed cat. “Well, it's after noon, are you hungry? Is that what you're complaining about?” With a final meow, Milo stalked out of the bedroom and, by the sound of it, down the stairs. 

That would be a yes.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update!! This chapter kicked my butt!

The air in the kitchen was thick with humidity as Castiel made his way in, the afternoon sun beating down on the earth reminding the world that it may be October but it was not quite fall. The sound of birds filtered through the small fan that was mounted in the window above the kitchen sink. Taking a moment, Castiel stood in the open doorway of the kitchen, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as he allowed himself to shed the last bits of tension still in his shoulders from the latest panic attack. He could get through this day, he had to. The last few years were proof of that. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind, though, reminded him to stay away from thinking about his nap dream. No good could be had by remembering him. Not right now. Not again. Not yet.

Opening his eyes, he found Milo perched next to his food bowl, staring up at him with hope. Hope that any second his bowl would be filled by the sleepy non angel that normally had his bowl filled already but had failed to do so. He gave a small mew as if to say “My bowl is over here, remember?”. Castiel chuckled as he made his way over to the pantry.

The kitchen wasn't very big, but the two of them had managed to get by with what they had. There were days when he knew Dean missed the old bunker kitchen and they had been saving money to renovate it, but Castiel couldn't help but love what they already had. It was very human of him, but wasn't that a good thing? He was going to be human for the rest of this mortal life, might as well find something worth appreciating. 

The stove, according to Dean, was probably from the 80’s and the kitchen tiles were old. The grout was black from poor maintenance but the faucet was brand new. Castiel didn't know much about kitchens but Dean said the last time it had been updated was probably 1995, whatever that meant. He was content, but if changing and updating made Dean feel more at home then who was Castiel to complain? So long as Dean was happy then he was happy.

Milo went nuts, meowing and circling around Castiel's feet as he grabbed the food and trudged towards Milo's bowl to fill it. “You act as if you've been starved to death.” Milo ignored him and nudged his way past the pouring container to get to his bowl causing some food to spill onto the floor before Castiel has a chance to pull away. 

“Okay then.” Putting the food away, he grabbed the broom and dustpan, cleaning up the spilled cat food and tossing it away. 

He glanced up at food in the pantry as he put the broom back, his first instinct being to grab some food and eat it. When he first became human he had a hard time knowing when to eat and when not to eat, just waiting until his body hurt. Dean had gotten upset with him far too many times so he had done some research. The internet told him to eat periodically throughout the day but to also eat at least 3 full meals. Building a routine had helped him through the years but today had broken that routine. He wasn't necessarily hungry, but shouldn't he eat something? The thought of Dean coming home and learning he hadn't eaten all day made him cringe. Best to just eat something than to have Dean be upset with him out of worry. Sighing, he grabbed the box of Raisin Bran and pulled the milk out of the fridge. 

The sound of the mail truck stopping outside had Castiel looking up from his bowl of cereal. Every once in a while the Men of Letters would send them mail asking Castiel to join their cause. He had no interest in working for men that never lifted a finger to stop anything since he had first come down from heaven all those years ago. Plus, he knew the only reason they'd want him was to pick his brain about angels and heaven. The last thing he wanted to do was remember, it was painful enough as it was. To be reminded every day that he was the last of his kind, and not even OF his kind anymore, they could, as Dean would say, shove the letters up their asses. 

Finishing his cereal, he stood and washed out the bowl, placing it in the half full dishwasher. He glanced at his phones time again, it reading 12:52pm. Dean would get off of work at around 3 and be back by about 3:30. If he stayed on task he'd have enough time to clean out the garden, do some laundry, and get his workout in. Closing the dishwasher, he decided to ignore the mailbox and headed up to grab the laundry basket.

\--------------

“One. Two. Three....”

Sweat dripped down Castiel’s back as he continued his daily workout, the shade from the giant old oak tree doing nothing to protect him from the unforgiving sun. Milo stayed sprawled out a few feet away in the most shaded patch of grass beneath the tree, eyes wide as they chased the gnats flying around him. The cat normally spent his days wandering around the property, usually only coming around for food, but today was different. On days like this one, Milo was known to stick close to Castiel, as if he was his personal body cat. He would never admit it out loud to Dean, but he was almost certain the cat knew what he was doing. That Milo could sense when he was distressed and knew that just his presence would help keep him calm. At least that’s what he likes to tell himself. Having a companion cat usually made him feel better, today was different; it always was.

“Four. Five. Six…”

His thigh muscles burned as he continued his third round of turning kicks, breathing heavy with the knowledge that he was only halfway through the days challenge. It wasn’t hard to understand why he was having a tough time doing the days challenge, but the fact that his mental hang-ups were getting in the way of his pre planned workout was stressing him out. The feeling of anger boiled in his gut with every half completed kick and every pant that escaped his lips. After a fourth half completed kick, he took a few small jumps from his toes and shook out his limbs. He needed to calm down or his workout was going to be for nothing. Stopping and closing his eyes, he forced his body to relax. The sound of the giant tree blowing in the warm breeze, something that usually helped keep him calm, just set his nerves on end. He needed silence; silence he could only get as an angel. 

No. Stop that. It was just a dream.

“Seven. Eight. Nine…”

With every breath he took, the frustration built. He never needed to work out as an angel. His vessel was never something he needed to worry about. Now it was. Four years later and he still wasn’t over it. He was not meant to be human. He was not meant to live a life like this. To need to eat, exercise, sleep...it was too human. He had been human before and it was just as awful then as it was now. 

“Ten!” 

Huffing, he took off towards the back porch in search for his forgotten water bottle.

Out of frustration, he took the steps too fast and tripped, slamming his non covered toes into the next stair. He yelled out in pain, hopping up the remaining step. The frustration from the day and the now very human pain throbbing in his foot sent his anger into overdrive. Curling his fingers while he spun on one foot, he drew back and threw his fist into the back door; shards of wood exploding into the home as his fist went through it. He grunted as his body kept moving forward from the momentum and he ended up shoulder deep in his door. The surprise caught him off guard and his shoulders relaxed, a new pain slowly trickling up his forearm. Tilting his head forward, he pressed his head against the door and took a deep breath. He would say “what could be worse” but he already knew the answer to that question. 

Slowly extracting his arm from the door, the pain from his toe still throbbing, he surveyed the damage. Lines of pink and red scratches covered his arm, small beads of blood scattered along almost every one. His hand was the the worst. Blood coated his hand from the much larger cuts, a small piece of wood protruding from it. He whimpered as he carefully gripped the piece and slowly pulled it out, more blood pooling in behind it. Using his good hand, he opened the door and headed inside. A rag that was left on the counter from the laundry caught his eye and he grabbed it, wrapping it around his bleeding hand as he made his way upstairs towards the master bath. He was sure Dean had a medical kit around somewhere.

\----------

“Cas?!” Castiel looked up from the discarded ace bandage still hanging half wrapped around his still bleeding and now throbbing hand as he sat on the toilet seat. He had wanted to get it wrapped before Dean had come home but he clearly had failed. 

Suprise suprise. 

The sound of Dean’s boots racing up the steps told him he was panicking. 

“Bathroom” He shouted, hoping a response would calm the man now running down the hall.  
Dean sped past the guest bathroom towards the master bedroom. Cas sighed, he really didn’t have the energy to explain everything to Dean right now but he could only imagine what the downstairs looked like to a surprised Dean. 

“Dean!”

A wide eyed and panicked Dean rounded to doorway and stopped dead when he saw Castiel pathetically sitting on the toilet with a scratched up bloody arm and a half bandaged hand. He just watched as the hunter instincts in Dean had him scanning the non angel before sweeping the bathroom. He wasn’t surprised by his reaction, with over three years of non monster activity, anytime anything fell out of place Dean was sure to overthink it, he just wished the insincts hadn’t come out due to Castiel's own stupidity.

“Cas….what happened?” 

Castiel looked down at his hand. “I stubbed my toe.” 

Dean didn’t move or say anything for a few seconds. 

“Okay…” He finally drawled. 

Castiel sighed as Dean finally stepped into the bathroom. He made his way over over to him, sitting on the lip of the tub across from the bleeding non angel. Gently, Dean reached out and took Castiel’s bleeding half wrapped hand. He watched as Dean surveyed the damage, slowly and carefully removing the ace bandage. As the last bits of bandage were taken off and the hand was freed it revealed bruises and blood littered all over and a few knuckles swollen to twice their size. 

Dean exhalled with a whispered, “Jesus christ, Cas.”. 

“Is it that bad?” 

Dean touched one of the swollen knuckles and Castiel jumped, grunting as pain shot through his hand all over again. “Well, you’ve definitely got a few broken knuckles.” 

“Of course I do.” He hissed as the new pain slowly started to ebb away into the old throbbing pain. 

Dean looked him in the eyes and just stayed there. He wasn’t sure what exactly Dean was trying to find, whether it was an answer to the mess in the kitchen or how the once angel wasn’t capable of wrapping his own hand. Castiel, though, found sympathy in his green eyes as they searched. He’d grown to understand human emotion better and better as the years dragged on, or better yet he had grown to understand Dean’s emotions better and better. Ninety percent of the time he spent with other humans was with only Dean so he wasn’t quite up to par with other humans, but he was up to par with the hunter. Right now, he didn’t like the sympathy been thrown at him. He was a human, not a child. 

Looking away, Castiel pulled his hand away. “I should wrap this up and finish my exercises.”

“Let me help.” Dean sighed, reaching out again for his broken hand.

“I’m not a child, Dean.” Castiel snapped half heartedly. He wasn’t upset with Dean, just himself.

“I am aware of that.” Dean scolded quietly, scooting closer and taking Castiel’s hand anyways. A part of him wanted to fight back and wrap his hand himself, but another part of him knew he’d been sitting in this bathroom for the past hour failing miserably to do just that. 

Carefully, Dean studied his hand. “Did you clean the wounds at all?” 

Castiel shook his head. Dean stood and guided him back downstairs to the kitchen. 

He didn’t say anything as Dean deposited him in the same chair as earlier that day before heading into the basement. Of course the medical kit had been in the basement. That was where Dean had kept all his old hunting gear and it only made sense that the kit had been with the rest of it. He reappeared with the real kit and set it down on the table next to Castiel.

Neither man said anything as Dean cleaned his hand, seasoned fingers caressing the broken hand carefully with every hiss and grunt from the non angel. Every once in a while when Castiel would shift in his chair from the pain, Dean would softly shush him or slide his thumb comfortingly along the side of his hand. The actions helped keep him quiet and from pulling his hand away. He knew it needed to get done and whining or being difficult wasn’t going to help. Dean barey flinched at all, practiced movements almost predicting every flinch or hiss from the damaged once angel human. 

Eventually Castiel found himself just staring at the once hunter’s face as a way to distract himself. There was a faint tan line around his eyes from the glasses the men wore on the construction sight. It highlighted the crinkled lines beside and above his eyes. He didn’t have bags under his eyes like Castiel did, though. He didn’t look tired and defeated, having grown accustomed to their new lives years ago. Dean had struggled at first to stop hunting, but when monsters and demons stopped being a problem and other hunters had begged the brothers to stop, they did. Sam was the first to agree and had taken him a while to convince Dean to stop, but eventually the older hunter came around. 

He still remembered the fight. Dean yelling about what could happen if they stopped and Sam yelling about them having been stopped already since there was nothing to hunt. He remembered the whispers when they thought the non angel was sleeping, arguing over whether he was okay or not. He remembered the first waves of nightmares and Dean being there instantly. He remembered when the brothers announced they were retiring. He remembered watching Dean. He remembered the retired hunter hiding under the hood of the Impala and burying himself in beer. He remembered when Sam asked him to join him at the construction site. He remembered watching the stress fall off the retired hunter as the months went on. He remembered when they bought the house and Dean smiled all throughout the move. He remembered their first night in the house all alone. 

A kiss placed on his broken hand pulled him out of his thoughts. 

He opened his eyes and glanced down at his now perfectly bandaged hand before looking back up at Dean. He noticed how close they were sitting, one of Deans legs between Castiel’s and his other outside one of them. Dean’s hands wandered over, one to Castiel’s leg and the other to his thigh, thumbs gently sliding back and forth over both of them.

“All done.” 

Castiel leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Thank You, Dean.”

Dean tilted his head and pressed his lips to Castiel’s in a soft kiss. “You’re welcome, Cas.” 

He closed his eyes again and sighed. He could finally feel the stress from the day drift off his shoulders allowing him to sink into the chair. Maybe everything could be okay after all. 

Before he could lean forward and chase Dean’s retreating lips, a cough sounded from the front door. “Am I interrupting something?” 

Dean exhalled, leaning forward to rest his head on Castiel’s shoulder. He shifted his head to accommodate Dean’s and glanced towards the front door to find Sam standing there, his brow raised in a questioning smirk. Castiel couldn’t help but smile.

Dean groaned into his shoulder. “If you had waited 5 more minutes you would have been.”

He chuckled at the grimace that fell across Sam’s face. “Well, thank god I left early then.” Shucking his boots at the front door, he headed towards the two men still sitting in the kitchen.   
“Do I even want to know what kind of kinky shit you guys have been getting up to?” Sam chuckled as he stepped over the broken door pieces before heading over to the fridge and pulling out a beer. 

“I stubbed my toe.” Was all Castiel could think to say. Dean was still leaning on him, both hands still caressing his legs. 

Sam huffed with a grin and took a swig of his beer. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

He tilted his head in confusion at Sam as Dean lightly gripped his thighs.

“Shut up bitch.”

“Jerk”

With that, Dean finally leaned back in his chair and stood just before giving Castiel a smirk he had learned to understand to mean ‘we’ll continue this later’. 

“So, you remember the grill?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be much much longer but with this chapter being over a day late and it starting to drift over 5k words, I decided to cut it off here. Sam and Human!Cas to come in the next chapter! Don't be afraid to let me know what you think :)


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Panic Attack. Please read with caution
> 
> Man did this chapter kick my butt!! I put in about 15 hours of overtime this past week and of course it was also memorial day weekend so I didn't have as much time as I wanted to do this chapter. I'm not sure if I like it but I'm just glad it's finished!

“So I look at Joe, honestly not believing what I’m seeing…” Dean opens his mouth to laugh but can’t due to the massive bite of burger still half chewed in his mouth, ”...and I said, ‘but you killed the engine right?’. I kid you not, the kid just stared at me like I was a ghost.” 

Dean loses it, his feet stomping under the table, a silent laugh still stuck behind the ball of still unchewed meat almost falling out if his mouth. Castiel grinned, unsure of who Joe was or why the story was funny but enjoying the brothers light hearted stories all the same. 

“He honestly hadn’t even thought to kill the engine,” Sam continued, “he just let it keep bouncing around until I ran over and did it myself. Bill was furious, and you know how calm Bill can be.” 

Dean finally managed to swallow the bite in his mouth before howling and slamming his hand on the table. Castiel chuckled as he quietly reminded Dean to be careful before he smashed the glass on their new patio table. 

“I would bet you a million bucks the kid doesn’t show monday.” Sam grinned at his brother, Dean still shaking his head with laughter. 

Castiel missed them like this. The two of them laughing and spending time together. Sure they worked together five days a week and every once in a while Dean would come home late after going out to dinner with Sam or just going and getting a few drinks, but this, sitting in their backyard, talking, eating, laughing, and having a few beers; he knew it had been far too long. In fact he couldn’t remember the last….

The laughter died within him. Oh no. He did remember the last time. It was last year at the same time. How could he have forgotten? This was the worst day of Castiel’s year and he had forgotten already? What did that mean?

“Cas?”

Castiel blinked up at the brothers, Dean leaning towards him and Sam still leaning back, both with concern on their faces. He hated it. Clearing his throat, he pushed his chair back and stood up, gesturing to both of them with his non bandaged and newly slung arm. 

“I need another beer, you want one?”

Sam shook his head. Dean nodded before pushing his chair back and standing as well. “I’ll come with you. Sam, you want another burger or brat?” Sam shook his head again, his eyes still studying Castiel. 

He looked away and walked towards the back door not wanting to see the pity that always came on this day. Dean was right behind him, a hand resting on his shoulder as they both stepped into the house. 

The kitchen had been cleaned, somewhat, of the broken door pieces. The door itself was still hanging for now, Dean making plans to take it down tomorrow on his day off. A few smaller broken pieces were still laying on the ground next to the breakfast nook and under the table. Castiel mentally made a note to deep clean the kitchen in the morning. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to get a splinter in their foot.

Once they were all the way in the kitchen, the hand still on his shoulder pulled, a sign that meant he wanted him to turn around.

“Hey, you okay?”

He sighed and shook his head before looking away at the counter. “I want to be…” Dean dropped his hand and set his empty paper plate down on the counter. “...i just….it’s hard today.”

Dean nodded, his eyes moving back and forth over Castiel’s face. “ I know.” He took a step back and leaned against the counter next to them. “Sam wasn’t doing too hot at work today either.” Castiel nodded, unsure of what to say. They both remembered what the day was and they both knew what it meant to him. 

“Maybe…” Dean shifted and took a deep breath. “...maybe you should all talk about it.” Castiel slowly looked up at Dean. Was he crazy? 

“I mean, maybe this is like…” He stood up straight again and placed a hand on the elbow of Castiel’s slung arm. “You know how songs get stuck in your head and the only way to get rid of it is to listen to the song?” Castiel nodded. He had remembered hearing that somewhere. Maybe one of the many youtube videos Dean made him watch from time to time. 

“What if it’s like that? What if you just need to talk about it and then it will slowly go away?”

Castiel tilted his head. “Go away?”

“No...not go away, that was the wrong words, I mean...” Dean raked his hands down his face. “Fuck, I don’t even know what I mean.” 

Castiel watched as Dean sighed and shook his head. Where was he going with this?

“What if talking about it will help you heal? Maybe you just need to remember what you both lost and that both of you share that loss.”

Dean made a good point. He had forgotten how much Sam had also been hurting, had forgotten that he wasn’t alone. Maybe talking about it, as much as he didn’t want to, was actually the right thing to do?

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Yeah? I thought for sure you were going to fight me on that.”

Castiel sighed, giving Dean a half hearted smirk. “Maybe tomorrow.” That made Dean smile.

Castiel grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge while Dean filled his plate with another burger and brat (his third plate). Once they were both happy with what they had, they went back outside. 

 

*****

 

Sam had taken a folding chair and retreated out into the yard next to the bonfire he had just started. Castiel attempted to balance 2 beers and a plate of 2 burgers and brats while Dean grabbed them both a chair and set them up next to Sam’s.

“It’s a beautiful night tonight.”

Sitting down, Castiel looked up at the horizon just visible through the line of trees at the edge of the property. The sun was just starting to finally set, casting the scattered clouds in an orange-ish, purple-ish hue. If he didn’t know better he’d say the sky was actually a beautiful painting, one made just for them by their missing friend. 

“Jack would have loved it.” he hears himself say before thinking better of it.

Sam shot a look him, studying his face. He tried to stay calm, not showing Sam how much he truly didn’t want to talk about Jack. That even thinking his name caused him immense amounts of pain, but he must have hidden his internal struggle well when Sam looked away and back at the sky.

“Yeah, he would have.” 

The three of them watched as the last bits of sunlight washed away, the stars finally coming out. They littered the clear night sky around the very visible milky way. The view was one of the main reasons he had put his stamp of approval on the house. Just close enough to town to not be a hassle but far enough to avoid what Sam had called “light pollution”. He knew, of course, that there were millions more things to see in the night sky, but his human eye would never be able to perceive it. A sinking feeling filled his gut at the thought. One more reason to feel miserable. 

Dean cleared his throat, grabbing both Sam and his attention. “Guys, I know talking about Jack is hard but…”

“Dean, we talked about this.” Sam scolded.

“No, you talked and I listened. I never agreed to anything.” Sam groaned, throwing his head back on the chair. 

“Look, the two of you never talk about him! Jack was important to you, Cas. He was the reason you had gotten mixed up with Kelly in the first place.” 

Castiel looked away, a part of him begging him to run from the conversation and another knowing he needed to stay. 

“Shit, the kid had even grown on me too over time. I know that I don’t understand what you two are going through, but I do know you’re going through the same thing. Just…” He paused to run his hands through his hair. “Maybe I watch too much Dr. Phil on the weekends, but, please talk to each other. I can’t keep watching you two mope around through life. It’s been 4 years.” In finality, Dean stood up and walked away. 

Castiel watched as the older hunter made his way back into the house. The look on Dean’s face had told him he wasn’t angry, but frustrated. It made sense. He, and apparently Sam, had been sulking through the last four years, both of them trying to bury their memories of Jack with him. Dean wasn’t a therapist, far from it, but Castiel knew he had a point. It was time.

“He’s right, Sam.”

Sam sighed in frustration but didn’t make a move to leave. He took that as a good sign.

“I... “ Castiel started, swallowing as he made himself try to speak. “...I had promised Kelly that I would take care of her son. Him dying...I…” He paused, those all too familiar human emotions building in his chest. 

“I know, Cas.” Sam said.

He paused, taking a deep breath to try and hold off the inevitable water works. “I feel like I’ve failed.” Sam looked at him then. “Not only did I fail Jack, but I failed the angels, heaven. He was supposed to save everyone, it was his destiny. Kelly believed it with all her heart and I promised to help him achieve that. All I helped him do was kill his father, and it was only after Lucifer…” 

He couldn’t say it. 

The images of that day flashed behind his now closed eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could even hear the sounds of the blade as it entered Jack’s chest. His own screams as he yelled out for the nephilim, moments too late. Jack’s eyes meeting his before exploding with light. The burnt remains of his tiny wings stretched out beneath his body, barely half the size of what they could have been…

“Killed him.” Sam finished. Castiel looked over at sam. He saw the anger mixed with sadness battling in his facial expressions. 

Sam had been right there. He was standing next to Jack when it had happened. 

“His own father…no...Lucifer..he…” Sam shook his head. 

“Lucifer was never his father. He only saw Jack as a means to and end.”

Sam nodded. “Fuck him.”

“Agreed.” 

They sat in silence for a while, both men trying to gather their thoughts; to say things out loud they never had before.

“I can’t get the image out of my head.” Sam was the first to speak. “I repeat that moment in my head over and over and over. If I had just done something different. If I had just known…”

“You couldn’t have known, Sam.”

“I know, but…”

“No, Sam.” Castiel turned in his chair to better face the younger hunter. “Lucifer hadn’t even known what was going to happen. He never planned for Jack to not follow him and having him side with us? With you?” Sam grimaced. “Sam, Lucifer was desperate. Killing Jack, it was a last minute tactic. He had panicked and Jack was just…”

“Don’t say it.”

Castiel stopped. Sam was right, he shouldn’t say it. 

The two men just sitting and watching the stars as the fire crackled in front of them. He didn't want to admit it, but Dean had been right. Knowing that Sam felt similar to him, that he wasn't alone in his feelings, it helped. 

“You know…” Sam started. He watched the younger man shift in his chair before shrugging off whatever was bothering him. “I started seeing this...therapist, for hunters.”

Castiel nodded, interested in the shift in conversation.

“I found her on accident a few weeks ago. She owns a shop in town, that one with the flowers and tea. Have you seen it?”

Castiel nodded. It was a quirky little shop on a street corner just in town. They would pass it anytime they had to go into town but they never had a real reason to go in. He liked the feeling he got everytime he looked at it; the windows stuffed with fake flowers and yard ornaments, even the small space of grass outside the small building was filled with different kinds of garden ornaments and yard pinwheels. He never saw anyone parked in the lot or had ever seen anyone walk in or out of the shop but It was always open when they drove by. 

“One weekend I was bored and decided to take a walk. I saw it and just decided to walk in. I had no reason too, I just did.” Sam never looked over at Castiel once. He kept his eyes straight ahead at the fire. “Once I did, I saw a sigil on a door inside and she caught me admiring it. She made a joke about it keeping demons away and I must have made a look or something because she knew immediately that I was a hunter. We got to talking and she told me she had an office in back that she used to help hunters having a hard time dealing with the life. She told me to come by the next day and, for some reason, I did.”

“I didn’t tell her everything, but I did mention Jack.”

“Did you tell her..”

“About him being a nephilim?” Sam cut him off, “No. I just said that he was a kid with a messed up past.” Castiel nodded at nothing since Sam wasn’t looking at him. “Talking about him helped a lot.”

Castiel frowned. “Then why didn’t you want to talk about him tonight?”

Sam picked at the plastic on his chairs armrest. “Dean mentioned your panic attacks.”

“Oh.”

“I told Dean not to bring up Jack because I knew that you were having a hard time with his death and being human…” 

Castiel finally looked away at the fire. He couldn’t quite make sense of the feelings fluttering around in his gut, but he knew they weren’t good. 

“...I just figured, until you were ready, we wouldn’t talk about him. Especially after you destroyed that door.”

“What was her name?”

Sam slowly turned his head towards him now. “Wh-what?”

Castiel didn’t take his eyes off the fire. “The woman you talked with.”

“Oh, uh, Mia.”

He nodded at the information. It wasn’t that he really wanted her name, he was just panicking. How long had Sam been wanting to talk about Jack but Castiel hadn’t allowed him too? Was that why he didn’t come by the house that often anymore? Why the brothers always went out without him? Was he a burden?

A loud pop exploded from the fire, more smoke drifting up into the night sky. His heartbeat sped up in his chest, his vision slowly starting to blur as he stared at the burning logs. Of course he was having another panic attack, it only made sense. They seemed to be a staple of the day, what with this being the third or forth one in a 12 hour period. 

 

Burden. Burden. Burden. Burden. Burden.

 

Trying to force down the panic, he slumped back in his chair. The burning logs, that he couldn’t actually see anymore, became fascinating. They had to be. He could outsmart the panic attack, if he could focus on the texture of the logs... 

 

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

 

His breaths started coming out in pants. If he could just focus on the logs then the thoughts would go away. They had to. The color of the flames that engulfed them. The sounds they made as the fire burned in and around them...

 

Stop it. Please. Just stop it. Stop. Please

 

“Cas?” Absentmindedly, he felt hands on his shoulders. 

 

Burden. 

Stop it!

Your fault.

Please stop.

Waste.

Burden!

Failure!!

….I know

 

“Castiel!”

 

He lifted his eyes at his name being shouted close to his face. A blurry Sam was in front of him now, hands gripping his shoulders. When did Sam get in front of him? Sam looked behind him and shouted. Or well, he looked like he shouted, he couldn’t actually hear anything anymore. When had that happened? 

 

What is going on? 

The angels all died and it’s your fault

Oh...right…

 

“Castiel.” 

 

A hand that was lightly slapping his face pulled him back. Sounds, touch, emotions, they all slammed him back into reality. Dean was kneeling in front of him, two hands cradling his face.

“Castiel. Hey, can you hear me? Babe, please look at me.”

He could hear someone whimpering now. Flicking his eyes behind Dean, he saw Sam standing there, eyes fixed on him, but not crying. He looked back at Dean and saw that he too was not crying. 

 

Then who was crying?

 

“Hey hey hey. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. I got you.” He felt his body being pulled forward, arms wrapping around him. 

 

“Dean, I don’t understand what happened…”

 

“You didn’t do anything, Sam.”

 

“I didn’t mean to make him cry! I told you this was a bad idea!”

 

I’m crying?

 

“I know, I know! This happens sometimes. It’s okay.” 

 

“This isn’t okay, Dean!”

 

“Sam..”

 

“No, Dean! He needs help!”

 

“You think I don’t know that!”

 

He wasn’t an angel anymore and he was never going to be. The angels were extinct. Heaven was gone. Jack was gone. None of it was ever coming back. Ever. He was going to be like this, this broken human, for the rest of this mortal life. Everything he knew, everything he had done, it was all for nothing. He lost everything and for what? To end up slowly rotting into death? A fraction of what he once was? 

His body jumped as he took in a deep and shaky breath before letting out a sob. All at once, all the emotions from the day came pouring out. He could feel his insides break into a million pieces as he let everything go, his good hand gripping the back of Deans shirt while the other stayed trapped between their bodies. 

 

His fears. His pain. His thoughts. His hope. 

 

What was the point anymore? 

 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Let it out. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

 

 

No i’m not. 

 

 

None of this will ever be okay.

 

 

 

*****

 

“Castiel!”

 

The angel woke with a start, Jack standing above him gently poking his shoulder. Slowly he sat up, his body feeling heavy as the effects of his dream self slowly started to melt away.

The nephilim plopped down on the bed across from him. “You were crying.”

He reached up to rub his eyes, the feeling of wetness very much present. When he pulled his hand away, a small puddle was now there. “Odd.”

“What were you dreaming about?”

Castiel looked up at the nephilim, taking in the fact that he was actually standing there in front of him. He was freshly showered, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. There were bags under his eyes, proof that the nephilim wasn’t getting any proper sleep, but he still looked wide awake. If anything he looked excited. 

Glancing at the clock on the night stand between their beds, it read 8:27 am. He had been asleep for about 8 hours and he could feel it in his vessels body. It had been a very long time since he had slept for that long. 

“Uh, nothing that I can remember.” He lied. Jack didn’t need to know about his odd dreams, especially when they revolved around him being dead. There was no telling how he would react.

Jack must have accepted the lie because he started nodding before finishing brushing his teeth.

“Lailah called while you were asleep. She said she’d be here in 20 minutes.”

Castiel nodded. “How long ago was that?”

Jack glanced at the clock and shrugged. “About 20 minutes ago.”

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. He stood and made his way over to the door, opening it. Lailah’s vessel was shorter than his, only coming up to his shoulders. Her vessel had very thick curly dark brown hair and was sporting the usual grey suit that the remaining angels had all started to all wear. She was frowning and seemed slightly annoyed. 

“Lailah, it’s good to see you.” He greeted, hoping to lighten his sisters mood.

“Hello, Castiel. I’m hoping you’re done sleeping now?”

He frowned.

“I just woke him up, he was crying.” Jack called from behind him.

His frown deepened. 

Lailah looked up at him again with concern. “Has something happened?”

“Uh.…” he stammered, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “It’s not of import.”

His sister stared at him, most likely searching his thoughts. It took every bit of grace to try and hide his dreams from the inevitable probe. There was no need for anyone to know about his dreams. They were just dreams and would stop eventually. 

“You have been dreaming?”

Castiel sighed. “I think we should start our search at the last known location. There may be something there that could help us find where the soul is headed.” 

Lailah continued to stare at him for a few more seconds before nodding and turning away from the door walking away. “The location is only a mile from here. Lets go.”

Jack jumped from the bed and gently pushed past him to follow her out the door.

“Jack.” The nephilim turned to look at him. Just as he thought, the toothbrush was still hanging forgotten from his mouth. “Toothbrush.”

He pulled the brush from his mouth. “Oh right!”

Castiel moved from the doorway to give space as Jack ran back through the door and towards the bathroom. He smirked, shaking his head at the sound of the faucet turning on followed by the distinct sound of spitting in the sink. A few seconds later, the nephilim was running back through the door.

“Thanks, Castiel. Lets go!”

 

He couldn’t help the feeling that this day was going to be a very good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel!Cas and Jack next week :)


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is 2 weeks behind and I apologize!! I changed it multiple times and took out an entire scene. I'm not sure if I like it but I guess we will see if you do.

There was something wrong, he was sure of it. Angels simply didn’t dream and, even if they did, they never dreamt as intensely and vividly as he had been. Ever since he had awoken, there was a heavy buzzing under his skin. As if the dream world was trying to come forward and force itself onto him. As if the human him was still there, a real being living through him in this other world. No, the real world. Human him was just a dream, even if a part of him was having a hard time believing it.

The autumn sun beat down on them as they made their way down the side road. There were no sidewalks where they were, only a shallow shoulder that dropped down into the rocks where the lake washed up. Train tracks laid just above, as if a haven for anyone who tumbled down, saving them from falling into the rocks and lake below. Every few minutes a car would pass by from either direction, none of them giving the odd trio a thought, but leaving a gust of wind behind to rustle at his coat. 

How could he figure out what was wrong?

Trailing behind the other two as Jack continued to ask questions to Lailah, he tried some much needed meditation. Taking a breath, he allowed his vessel the chance to take in all the universe had. The energy from the sun as it beat down on his exposed skin. The breeze from the sky as it cooled the warming skin. The sound of the lake as it washed up against the rocks. The crunching of the rocks and dirt under their feet as they made their way towards their destination. The blending smells of grass, trees, and the algae that washed up against the rocks below.

Many of the trees were starting to shed the colorful leaves they had bared, piles of colors lining the opposite side of the road where the shoulder became over run by bushes and trees. The power lines that stood before them, as if a wall keeping the earth away from traveling humans. The lake that sat at the right, view blocked by the line of trees between him and the railroad tracks that were gradually lifting the closer they got to their destination.

Everything seemed normal; nothing quite out of place. Maybe he was overreacting? Maybe the dreams were just a side effect of his restored grace. Maybe there was nothing wrong at all. 

“How old are you?”

Castiel smiled as the silence between the three of them was broken once again. Jack had been hounding Lailah with questions and he was making zero efforts to stop him. He knew Lailah was getting annoyed but a part of him was enjoying seeing the nephilim so curious and happy. Was it was a side effect of his continued dreams, he wasn't sure, but he figured a few too many questions wouldn't hurt anyone. 

“As old as time itself.” She retorted, a slight annoyance in her tone.

Jack pondered the statement before asking another. “Are you older or younger than Castiel?”

She sighed. “We are neither younger nor older than each other. All angels were created at the same time.”

“But Lucifer, Michael, they were older?”

“They were archangels.” She supplied, “God made them first to help create the universe. When he was done, he made the angels.”

Jack nodded, deep in thought. “Did he give the angels, you, specific jobs?” He turned to look between the two angels.

“Yes.” Lailah was the one to answer.

“Did you like your jobs? Or do you like your jobs? What were they? Were they all different?” 

Lailah sighed heavily. Finally deciding to relieve her from the onslaught of questions, he placed a hand on Jack's shoulder, having the nephilim slow to his own pace and leave Lailah to lead. 

“I don’t know if I can speak for Lailah, but yes.” He smiled, memories of his time before the apocalypse coming up as he looked up at the sky. “We were both part of garrisons tasked with watching over the earth and its humans. Humans can be, interesting creatures. I enjoyed watching them very much.”

Jack smiled, his eyes round and desperate for more information. “Why?”

There were many reasons why he enjoyed watching the humans and putting them into words was difficult. “Humans are very different from us, well angels. When born, they start so small and require full amounts of care and attention from their parents. It takes them many years to grow and learn and, when their done, they continue to move around their world with only a fraction of the knowledge that we have. They are very ignorant to the ways of the universe, making them innocent and fragile, and yet we still have so much to learn from them.”

Lailah scoffed in front of them. “Oh yea, like what?”

“Emotions. Free will.”

Lailah turned her head, making a face at him. “Emotions make humans weak.”

A flash of memories came through at Leilah’s comment. Being scared and overwhelmed. Feeling vulnerable and exposed. Being human hadn’t been easy, especially in the very beginning. He was a being as old as time and yet, having his grace forced from him, being thrown to earth, he had never felt more young. Like a new life just born into a world that didn’t want him. A world that was unforgiving and gave very little sympathy to those that didn’t understand. He had felt weak at the time, but now, looking back, he realized just how strong he had really been. 

The universe had given him every reason to give up, yet he never had. He came close, that one day, but he still made it through. It was a small amount of time, only a few months, but humans felt like that every day of their lives. 

“No,” he shook his head, “it doesn’t make them weak. I believe it makes them strong.”

Lailah frowned, turning back ahead and continuing her determined pace. They weren’t far now, maybe only a few more minutes walking.

“How do emotions make humans strong?” Jack asked, eyes screwed into confused contemplation. “Emotions seem overwhelming, a sort of blindfold to the senses. How can that be good?”

“It helps them navigate their free will and how to best use that power. Without emotions, humans would have destroyed themselves long ago.”

“Without us, you mean.” Lailah retorted.

Castiel squinted. “Yes we helped, but not all of us were good for the humans, Lailah.”

Lailah stopped this time, just a couple feet away, turning to face him. “Perhaps it was them that wasn’t good for us.”

He tilted his head in confusion. There was something hidden behind her eyes, thoughts she was trying to hide from him. She looked away, shaking her head.

“So many of us died for the sake of the humans. What have they ever done for us?”

“Lailah.” She didn’t look up at him. “God asked us to watch over them. To…”

“We need to keep walking.” With that, Leilah turned and continued her way down the side of the road. 

He blinked, confused as to what had just happened. Some angels were known to have their own grievances with humanity, but only the dangerous ones every spoke as Lailah had. How could she be so angry towards the humans and yet be the leader for finding and retrieving the lost souls? Perhaps he had been away from his own kind for too long.

“Castiel?” Jack was standing in front of him now, looking back to see if he was following.

“Yes?” 

“We should keep moving.” 

He nodded, walking towards the nephilim. “Okay.” 

It was only a few moments later when they walked up to the last seen location of the possible soul. The three of them wandered down towards the tracks that had curved further back past the trees and towards the lake.

“It’s definitely a soul.” Lailah stated, pushing past a branch as they cleared the tree line.

“How can you tell?” Jack asked as he followed.

The closer they got to the tracks, the more a faint buzzing started to vibrate against his grace. “Yes, I can feel it calling out. The signal isn’t strong though.”

She kneeled down next to the tracks, hand reaching out to touch. “It’s weak. Definitely was here but it’s been a few days.” 

Castiel glanced up and down the tracks, searching for a light, a sense, to try and track where the soul had gone. “I didn’t sense anything on the way here, did you?” He asked Lailah.

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t sense anything until we made our way across the tree line.” He hummed in agreement.

“I...I think I feel something.” Jack looked to both angels. “I can feel a sort of vibration, like it’s under my skin.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows and nodded with a smirk. The nephilim was more observant than he thought. “Yes, that’s your grace, well the essence of you, that is reacting to the human souls presence.” 

Jacks eyes lit up in understanding, as if reacting to the sensations physically. “It feels familiar somehow. Is that normal?”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion.

“Familiar?” Lailah asked, standing to make her way towards them. “In what way?”

The nephilim lifted a hand towards his chest. “I don’t know. It’s like I knew her.”

“Her?” Castiel asked. When angels felt a human soul they only felt the energy. Jack was sensing more than him or Lailah could.

He nodded his head. “Yes. I think…” He closed his eyes and placed his other hand against the side of his forehead. “....I think her name is…..Haley.”

“Haley?” Lailah asked.

Castiel reached a hand out towards Jack, placing it on his shoulder. “How are you doing that, Jack?”

The nephilim opened his eyes, looking up at him. “I’m not sure. I can just feel it. There’s energy that I can sense, like you I think, but there’s more. I can just tell that she’s a she and that she’s young. She’s looking for something, I think.”

Castiel looked to Lailah, their eyes meeting in a mixture of concern and curiosity. 

“Jack,” Lailah started, “can you sense which direction the soul went next?” Jack closed his eyes again, turning towards the lake. 

Castiel removed his hand as the nephilim slowly turned more before walking back towards the tree line. The two angels followed silently, uncertainty pulling at Castiel’s own grace. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe the nephilim, he just wasn’t sure what to make of the new information. Jack being able to sense more than him concerned him. How was he supposed to help the nephilim navigate his powers if he didn’t know what the nephilim could sense?

Stepping through the trees, a line of cars boarding a ferry came into view. “There.” Jack stated, a large smile on his face.

Lailah frowned. “That can’t be right. The first incident was on the ferry then the second there.” She said pointing back to where they had just been. “The soul wouldn’t turn around, it would keep moving forward.” She looked to Castiel for confirmation but he just shrugged. He wasn’t sure what to make of the situation.

“It doesn’t make sense for the soul to backtrack,” Jack’s shoulders slumped, “but then again we didn’t sense anything on the way here.”

“True,” Lailah started, “but we also were walking along the road. It wasn’t until we got close to the tracks that we started to sense anything.”

He sighed. Jack was so sure he was right and Castiel wanted him to be, but Lailah was also right. He looked to Jack who stood defeated before him. “He has a point, Lailah. I think we should continue forward to the graveyard.” She frowned. “If we don’t find anything, we can double back.”

With an eye roll, she shook her head. “Fine.”

Jack smiled, puffing up his shoulders in pride as they headed towards the ferry.

 

*****

 

The nephilim stood on the grass near the ferry, eyes wide in awe as the ramps opened up and the cars drove off. He was radiating pure energy, excited for a chance to drift across the lake. They inched closer as the last line of cars began to board, walking on themselves through the pedestrian ramp. The driver perched up above waved them on, smiling as Jack enthusiastically waved back. He had a way with the humans that the angel would truly never understand. The ferry began to roar as it closed the last ramp, slowly pulling away from the shore and heading across on the cables attached at each end. 

Castiel smiled, excited and happy in his own way. He was experiencing a lot of firsts, firsts that the nephilims mother would have loved too see. Firsts like Jack’s first ride on a human contraption that propelled vehicles across a body of water instead of having to drive around the massive lake. She would have loved it, he knew that.

“Jack, can you feel anything?” Lailah asked as they all stood next to the railing, the lake passing by underneath them.

He closed his eyes in thought before answering. “Sort of. I think I can feel multiple energies.”

“More souls?” Castiel asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s kind of like I can sense how many times she’s been here. Some are strong and some are weak. I think she’s been traveling back and forth.”

“Why would a soul do that?” Lailah asked perplexed.

“I’m not sure.” Castiel responded, reaching his own grace out to try and sense what the nephilim was. “But at least we know this to be a place of interest.”

She nodded in agreement. “Let’s be sure to track the strongest energy when we reach the other side. The faster we can find the soul the better the chances are of avoiding it becoming a ghost.”

“If it hasn’t already.” Castiel supplied. 

Jack nodded in serious agreement.

 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence from the group, the only noises being the roar of the engines and the occasional car doors opening and closing as travelers exited their vehicles to admire the views before climbing back in as they inched closer to the other side. There were many views that Castiel admired after all his years; this was one to remember. Not only was the view of the sun eclipsed by the railroad tracks that stretched across the lake stunning, but also the sight of Jack having the experience for the first time. 

The nephilim was over a year old already, but there was so much he never got to experience; His first year filled with fighting and death and hatred and war, things a young child should never have to experience. He was glad the nephilim was able to find peace in small moments like this one. If he was destined to have Lucifer as a father, then Castiel was glad Kelly ended up being his mother; Her gentle spirit allowing the nephilim to feel things Lucifer was never capable of. 

The ramps lowered once again, allowing everyone off on the other side. A few humans darted across the street towards their parked cars to drive onto the once again boarding ferry, one man nearly tripping as he attempted to jump over the barrier, scrambling for his car.

“I can feel her!” Jack exclaimed, eyes roaming the new area.

“Is she here?” Lailah asked.

He shook his head. “No, but it must not have been too long ago.” Jack headed up the road, feet moving swiftly on a mission as the two angels followed behind.

At the top of the incline, the road came to a T. The right seemed to head further into town while the left seemed to head out of town. Jack studied both directions, every few seconds closing his eyes. The third time he looked towards the left he inched forward a few steps.

“This way.”

The two angels followed close behind, both curious to see what would happen next.  
“There.” Castiel and Lailah looked to where Jack was pointing, a cemetery just underneath and slightly past the railroad tracks.

“This is where the energy was leading you?” Castiel asked just to be sure.

Jack nodded. “Yes. It’s even stronger now too.”

The group continued forward and onto the grass of the cemetery. A breeze gently blew in from the south, blowing Castiel’s coat around his thigh as a few birds whistled away in the shedding trees. The trees lining the property were spotted with different hues of red and orange, the leaves shining brightly under the intense sun. They made their way over the piles of leaves and onto the main property. The site wasn’t very big, signs of an always small community ever present in the smaller than normal number of gravestones. 

“Let’s split up and look.” Lailah suggested. Jack and Castiel nodded in agreement before heading off in different directions.

 

*****

They had been wandering through the gravestones for a few hours, Castiel reading the names and dates on each one. Neither of them had found anything of interest and Lailah was getting tense. She wanted to go back to the tracks, he knew that, but Jack had followed the souls energy to this spot. Hopefully they’d find something before she felt the trip a complete waste.

“Over here!”

Castiel and Lailah both looked up at a waving Jack. He was standing in front of a small gravestone, much smaller than the rest. The closer they got to the stone, the stronger a feeling built. They were definitely close to the soul and definitely close to solving this case. Once Castiel rounded the stone he was able to read the name. 

Haley Koviet  
October 16th 1993  
Mommy & Daddy Love You Very Much

“The energy is extremely strong here.” Jack stated, crouching down to touch a wilting flower that was in a vase attached to the side. “She comes here often.”

“Why would such a young soul stay at their own grave?” Lailah asked.  
Castiel shook his head. “I’m not sure. Perhaps she’s waiting for something?”

“My mother.” A voice said behind them.  
All three spun around, coming face to face with the soul. The blue orb hovered in front of them, it’s light flickering as if it was losing its ability to stay in the air. 

“You’re becoming a ghost.” Castiel stated.

“Yes...I….I think so.” Her voice was small, like a young child’s. 

“It was you.” Jack stated, stepping closer to the soul. “You were in my dream last night weren’t you.”

“Yes.” Lailah frowned. “I could sense you when you got to town. You can help me!”

“Help you with what?” Castiel asked.

“To see her mother.” Jack answered. The soul hovered a little closer to Jack. 

“Will you let me possess you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh* There we are. It's finally done. Parts of the next chapter are already done and I do already have the next few chapters planned out so HOPEFULLY I wont take another 2 weeks to get a chapter up. *fingers crossed*


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was planning to have this done and posted on time, but, last week I made a last minute decision to quit my job with no backup plan. Obviously that sent my weekend and past week into CHAOS. I've got everything, sort of, worked out on the personal end and am so very happy this chapter is FINALLY done. It didn't quite turn out the way I wanted, but I can only edit so much before I just have to post the darn thing.
> 
> Anyways, again, apologies for the late update. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

“Will you let me possess you?”

Castiel stepped forward. He could tell the nephilim was going to accept her ask, no questions, and every part if him knew that it was a very bad idea.

“Jack.” He warned cautiously. 

Jack turned towards him and frowned. “She needs my help, I have to help her.”

Castiel shook his head. “No, you don’t. Look at her. She’s used up all her energy going back and forth and It’s not going to be long before she turns.”

“No, please!” She cried.

“I’m sorry, but we need to send you back to heaven before that happens.” 

“He’s right.” Lailah stated. “We can’t help you if you turn. You need to go back.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She begged, light flickering faster. “She’s going to be here, I know it. I have to see her, please!”

Lailah stepped forward lifting her arm to grab the soul and release it. “I’m sorry.” She said, no sympathy in her tone. Twisting her wrist to grab the soul with her grace, the soul started flickering violently. 

“No!” Jack turned, grabbing Lailahs arm. His eyes glowed yellow. 

“Jack!” Castiel shouted at the nephilim as smoke rose from where his hand laid on her arm. 

Lailah shouted, stumbling back and cradling her arm to her chest. Castiel looked back to where the soul was and saw nothing. The soul was gone.

“What did you do to me!” Lailah shouted.

Jack stepped back in shock, eyes drawn down to his own hands. “I...I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was. I just wanted you to stop.”

Castiel made his way to Lailah, eyeing Jack as he went. She pulled back her burned jacket sleeve to reveal burn marks on her skin in the shape of a hand.

She whimpered and pulled back as Castiel attempted to touch and heal it. “He did something to me so I can’t heal myself!”

“He didn’t mean it, Lailah. He doesn’t have control….”

“...Of course he meant it! He was trying to keep the soul for himself and hurt me to do it!” Jack didn’t move, stuck in a trance as he continued to stare at his hands. 

“Lailah, please.” Castiel laid a hand on her back, careful not to send over any of his grace just yet. She calmed but continued to say nothing as she glared at the nephilim. “Let me take you back to the motel.” He offered. “If we can’t heal you then we still need to treat the wound for your vessel.”

“No.” She shook her head. “We need to go after the soul before she turns.”

A woosh of air signaled that the nephilim had fled the scene. He wandered uselessly towards the spot Jack had disappeared from. “Jack!” 

“Let him go.” said Lailah. “That soul is going to turn and running after him won’t help her.”

The last thing he wanted to do was let an emotional nephilim out into the world, but she was right. They needed to find the soul before anything else happened.

 

*****

 

The sun was setting now, the sky cast in a beautiful hue of orange and purple. Castiel would have taken the time to enjoy it if he wasn’t heavy with a growing fear and agitation. They hadn’t found the soul or Jack yet. With their luck the soul had probably already become a ghost.

“I hate to say it,” started Lailah, “but I think you’re right. We need Jack first.”

Castiel nodded in agreement as they headed back down the winding back road. “There’s no telling where he went. I already checked the motel room and did a search through most of the town.” When he found the nephilim, they were definitely going to have a talk about the flying off. 

“Time we won't get back.” Lailah grumbled

He made a face. “It only took me a couple seconds.”

She snickered in response. “I could have done it faster.” Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, for healing me earlier.” She said, shoulders slightly more relaxed than they had been. “Perhaps when all this is over, finding the souls, we could work together.”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “Work together?”

“Yes. In heaven.”

“Oh.” Castiel nodded absently. He hadn’t expected an offer like that from Lailah or from any angel.

“Unless…” She started, looking up at him. “You don’t plan on coming back to heaven.”

He sighed. “I’m not sure.”

“Do you not miss home?”

“I do.” He said with honesty. “I miss the heaven from before the fighting, the apocalypse. When all my garrison had to do was watch over humanity and protect them from unknown threats…”

“But…”

“But, when I go back, to heaven, I remember things that i’ve done.”

“Like the battle with Raphael?”

He nodded. “Yes. When I took on those souls, I changed, and not for the better. I killed those angels, all of them.” He sighed, looking away from Lailah. “If I could go back and change things, I would. I would have listened to Balthazaar when he warned me. To have given back those souls immediately when Sam and Dean had asked me to.”

“The Winchesters. You’ve spent most of your time with them. Why does their opinions of you matter so much?” She asked genuinely. He knew that most of the angels disliked the Winchesters, but having them actually ask why, that was new.

He took a deep breath. “During the apocalypse, I had been taken by my superiors for attempting to warn the Winchesters about the plan to release Lucifer on purpose. They had tortured me into submission”

Lailah shook her head. “Naomi.”

He nodded. “When they released me, I had given up out of fear. I knew that what was planned was wrong, but their ways can be... persuasive. I fell back in line and just followed orders blindly. When it came to the final moments before Lucifer was released, I was re awoken. Heaven didn’t care what happened to humanity, our charges, but the Winchesters did. I had a choice. Allow humanity to fall at the hands of heaven, or fight back.”

“You chose to fight back.”

He nodded. “Yes. I fought back and then fell. The Winchesters were there, in a way. I continued to be their guardian.”

“And that’s why you care so much. They became your family. Your new garrison.” She offered in understanding.

“Huh.” He humphed in realization. “In a way, I suppose they did.”

“Could you ever consider me family?” 

That was unexpected. 

“We are family. You are my sister.” He offered, confused.

“Yes, but in the same way you consider the brothers?” 

“You would want that?” He asked, skeptical. 

“I know you believe that all the angels hate you, Castiel, but it's not true.” She stopped walking, facing Castiel. “Yes, you killed thousands of us, but then, when the angels went to rescue you from Purgatory, they said you didn't want to come back, that you fought them to stay.”

He looked away. “I…. I don't remember, I'm sorry.”

“They said they grabbed you, fighting the whole way. That doesn't sound like an angel that intentionally killed thousands of their own kind.”

“My being sorry doesn't change what I did.”

She reached a hand out and rested it on his arm. “No, but it shows remorse. Taking in all those souls it made you more powerful than an archangel. It changed you. Being sorry shows evidence that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't you that killed those angels, but the souls you had taken in.”

He didn’t know what to say. This was the most time he had spent with another angel in a long time. He was nervous at first, knowing the angels really didn’t like him around anymore, but he was pleasantly surprised by Lailah. She was a little rough around the edges but he knew, deep down, that she was kind. The events over the last 10 years made all the angels toughen up, do things they never would have before the apocalypse. Yes, many of them were soldiers, but Lailah wasn’t always. If memory served him correct, she had always been an observer. Watching and reporting, that was all. The fall, Amara, Lucifer, Michael, it changed everything for everyone. 

“I'm sorry, Castiel.” She said, releasing his arm.

“For what?” He asked, confused by her for the millionth time that day.

“For hiding. For not helping heaven like I could have.” She said, eyes cast down at the ground in remorse.

Castiel smiled, he definitely liked Lailah. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he squeezed in comfort. “You’re helping now and that's what is important. The first step is always the hardest.”

“Thank you.” She met his eyes with a small smile. In that moment he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things between him and heaven could be resolved. 

They both turned back forward, continuing towards the cemetery.

 

*****

 

Jack didn’t have control of his powers yet and using them always came with a risk. Castiel started to fear that, if they didn’t find him soon, something may go wrong. If they could just find the soul...

“Castiel.” Lailah grabbed his attention, pointing at the cemetery that came into view. He noticed a car was there now, parked next to the headstone of the missing soul. Why would a human be out so late? 

They made their way back into the graveyard, walking around the parked car. A woman was standing in front of the small gravestone, flowers in hand having not noticed them yet. Not wanting to disturb her, he motioned for Lailah to stay back with him.

“I dreamed about you last night.” The woman said, placing the flowers in the vases attached to the sides. “It’s been a long time since mommy has seen you. I…” she sniffled back a sob, “I miss you so much.”

The soul hadn’t been lying. Her mother did show. 

The sound of crunching rocks had all three of them looking up. Jack was making his way towards them. There was a new energy surrounding the nephilim but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. 

“Are you Tanya?” Jack asked, stopping a few feet from the gravestone, figure only visible due to the headlights of the woman's car.

“Y-yes.” The woman hesitated. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jack. Your daughter wanted me to speak to you.”

“My daughter? Lynn?” She asked, nervousness present in her tone. 

She still hadn’t noticed the two angels behind her. Not wanting to spook her, Castiel signaled Lailah for him and her to fly into the dark behind Jack. She nodded in understanding and they flew off, landing just a few feet behind Jack. The woman didn’t notice. 

“No,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Haley.”

“Haley?” Tanya scoffed, stepping back a bit. “A-are you a medium?”

“A medium? No, I’m a nephilim.” It was the perfect time for the two angels to step forward.

“Jack.” Castiel called, walking up behind him. Jack turned to look at him and frowned.

“Castiel?”

“You shouldn’t have run off like that.” He chastised the nephilim. Jack dropped his head. Looking up at the woman, Castiel gave an awkward half bow. “I apologize if he has scared you.”

Tanya shook her head. “It’s okay. I have a teenager of my own. Kids will be kids, right?” Castiel nodded. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant but he’d learned over the years to just nod when humans said strange things.

“We should go.” Setting a hand on Jacks shoulder, he attempted to turn them away to walk out of the cemetery. They still needed to find the soul. 

“Wait.” Tanya called, stepping around the gravestone. “He...he said my daughter sent him.”

“Yes, Haley.” Jack stated. Castiel looked down at him with a frown.

Tanya stepped up to them, eyes on Castiel. “May I speak with your son?”

He shook his head. “My apologies, but we really must go.” 

Jack looked up at him again, an argument in his eyes. “Castiel…” He tightened his grip on Jacks shoulder and turned him to leave. Jack hesitated, “Please. I can help, I know I can.”

This was not a good idea, by any means. There was no telling what Jack was going to tell this human woman. Plus, they still needed to get that soul before she turned into a ghost. 

“Castiel.” Lailah called, only a few steps behind him.

“Please. Tanya begged. “Just a couple minutes, I promise.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. If worse came to worse, he could just wipe her memory. Giving in, he let go of Jack’s shoulder and nodded.

“Thank you.” Tanya said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Jack turned back to her and stepped closer. Lailah shot Castiel a look, frowning in confusion. He simply shrugged in response.

“Your daughter, Haley, she came to you in a dream, right?” Jack asked.

She nodded, eyes large. “Yes, last night!”

“And she asked you to come here, right?” Tanya nodded again with a gasp.

How had Jack known that? The soul hadn’t mentioned that.

Jack stepped closer again. “She wants you to know that she doesn’t blame you for anything that happened. It was a medical accident and it was not your fault, no matter what he tells you.”

Tanya immediately started crying, folding over, hands over her face. “Oh my god.”

Jack shuffled his feet and looked back at Castiel, an apology in his eyes. The angel frowned and tilted his head in question. What was the nephilim up to? 

Jack turned back to Tanya as she cried. “She...she has more to say.” The woman sniffled, giving Jack her full attention. Castiel squinted. Something was wrong.

Jack tilted his head back and sighed. The strange energy that was around Jack suddenly grew, spanning out across his entire body. Castiel started to grow panicked.

“Jack!” He quickly moved to Jack’s side, placing his hand on his back. “Jack, what is happening?”

Jack opened his eyes, blinking a few times. Castiel couldn’t tell what was happening but the energy rolling off Jack was intense. It made him even more scared. 

Jack tilted his head forward, looking at Tanya. “Mom?” He finally said.

No. Oh no.

“Haley?” Castiel tried, desperate that he was wrong.

The nephilim looked at him and nodded. “Yes.”

Tanya gasped in front of them. “Haley? My Haley?”

Jack, no Haley, nodded reaching out for her mom’s hands. “Yes, it’s me. Oh my god! It worked!”

Tanya immediately threw her arms around Jack/Haley and cried again. Castiel didn’t like this at all.

“Haley! My precious baby!” Jack/Haley started crying too.

After a few minutes they pulled apart, each wiping their faces. 

“I don’t understand?” Tanya stated. “How are you here? How am I holding you?”

Jack/Haley shook their head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s helping me get a few moments with you before I go back to heaven.”

“Go back to heaven? You left?”

“No, I fell.”

“Fell, w-wh...how?” Tanya asked, eyes moving between her daughter and Castiel.

“I don’t know. Something happened and the next thing I knew I was on earth again. 

“Are you okay?” Tanya asked, hands touching her face, arms, hair, as if she was checking for scraps and bruises.

Jack/Haley nodded. “I’m fine for now. I only have a few minutes before I get stuck. I just wanted hug you for the first time.” 

Tanya gripped her daughters hands; Jacks hands. “How will you get back?” Tanya asked, worried.

Haley/Jack turned towards Castiel and Lailah. “With their help. They know how to get me back.”

Castiel took the opportunity to walk up again. “We really do need to get you back, Haley. You don’t want to be stuck as a spirit.” Haley nodded this time, unwilling to fight. Castiel was grateful for the change in heart. He was terrified that she would fight back or that something would go wrong. Castiel stepped back, allowing them their last goodbyes. 

She turned back to her mother. “Take care of Lynn, Ed, Marie, and Lizzy. They need you even though they pretend they don’t.” They both chuckled, holding back more tears.

Tanya rubbed their arms. “Of course. Keep watching over them and be safe.” Haley nodded this time. Cupping her hands over Haley/Jack’s face, she kissed their forehead. “Until we meet again.”

“Castiel.” 

Lailah’s warning had his head whipping up. Lailah had her blade out, squaring up to something behind him. Turning quickly he saw five demons making their way up the drive behind Tanya’s car.

One of the demons sauntered up past Tanya's car, leaning against the side of the hood, an angel blade in hand. “That may be sooner than you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue is my nemesis, I SWEAR. It's shorter than usual, but I had to stop where I did. Things are going to get CRAZY next chapter, so prepare yourselves!


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning in the End Notes
> 
> Thank you so much to those clicking in and reading this fic. I don't have a beta reader so all the mistakes are mine and mine only. This chapter was so much fun to write! I cut it off early since it was going on for a lot longer than I had intended. We're finally getting into the main plot point and its exciting! 
> 
> Happy Reading!

Castiel quickly stepped in front of Tanya and Haley, blocking them from the demons all huddling around the vehicle as he manifested his blade. The two huddled closer behind him, understanding, without order, to stay put. Lailah was only a couple of feet back and to his right, in front of the demon leaning against the car. A quick pulse of grace through the cemetery let him know that all demons were right in front of them. 

“Why are you here, scum.” Lailah practically growled.

The demon smirked, casting his eyes up and down Lailah’s vessel. Standing up and wiping down the side of his black suit, something all of them were wearing, he sauntered closer to her. He only stopped when she changed her stance.

“Tsk tsk tsk. We're not here to hurt you, angel.” His voice was soft, as if trying to woo the angel.

Castiel scoffed. “You're demons.” He stated, not believing his lie.

The demons turned to him and glared. “Congratulations, captain obvious, you have eyes.” The demons behind him chuckled. Castiel tightened the grip on his angel blade. 

“We just want something you have.” That was obvious, Castiel thought. “So long as you give us what we want, then no one has to get hurt.” 

“What do you want?” Lailah asked. 

The demon smirked at Castiel this time. Lifting his arm, he pointed the blade right at him. “The soul.”

This, right here, was an unexpected reason why Jack should have never allowed the soul to possess him and why he should have said no to the human mother and set the soul free. The only reason he allowed Jack to come with him on this mission was due to the fact that it was supposed to be an easy one. At this point, no part of this mission has been an easy one. And now Jack was possessed by a human soul with demons around. 

“No!” Tanya yelled behind him as she held Jack/ Haley close. 

“What could you possibly want with this soul.” Lailah asked as she slowly moved closer to Castiel and their current charges. 

A thought made its from her to Castiel, letting him know her plan. They were to keep the demon talking until she could get to them. As soon as she did, she would grab the soul and human and fly off. Castiel would have to fight to keep them away long enough for her to get the soul out of Jack and send it to heaven. Then she'd come back and help fight them away.  Castiel sent his approval back to her. Now all they had to do was keep the demon talking. 

The main demon laughed. “You're joking, right? Hell works the same as heaven. We need souls to survive. Hell is falling apart so we need more souls.”

Castiel frowned. “Why don't you just make more demon deals?”

The demon scoffed. “We need souls now, not in ten years, you angelic moron.” Castiel grit his teeth. “We're in emergency mode and the fallen souls have made our jobs much much easier. Without a leader, us demons decided to make a little game of collecting them. The demon that collects the most souls, in the first month, gets to rule hell.” Lailah was almost at his side when the other demons started to make their way closer to them. 

“You see,” the demon kept talking as everyone moved. “it's the end of the month, and I'm one soul behind the lead.” 

“Run when I say run.” Castiel commanded the ones behind him as he stepped them backwards. 

“And that soul is going to give me the crown.” 

Castiel didn't have a chance to think before a demon disappeared and reappeared next to Lailah. He grabbed her and threw her across the dirt road away from them. 

“RUN!”

Three demons charged at him. Lifting his leg, he kicked the first demon sending her flying back into the car. He dodged. To the right, missing the second demons stab, grabbing his arm by the wrist with one hand and slamming his elbow up into the demons face. It dropped its blade and stumbled back onto the grass. The third demon kicked at Castiel's legs causing him to fall. He quickly rolled backwards and jumped up with just enough time to grab the demon by the shoulders at it charged and throw it across the yard. 

With a moment to gather his wits, he saw that both his charges had only moved a few feet, frozen in fear. “I told you to run!” 

Tanya shook her head. “Its dark! Where are we supposed to go?” She cried. 

“Run now!” 

A loud gurgle noise had him looking back towards Lailah. She managed to sink her blade into the fifth demons stomach, kicking it away to keep her attention on the first demon. He could use this moment to smite the area, but the humans were too close. If he wasn't careful he could hurt them. The risk was too high.   

Jack/Haley pointed behind him. “Castiel!” 

One of the demons managed to gather themselves fast enough to now be making his way towards him again. Castiel wasn't fast enough to notice him and was grabbed by the back of his coat and shoulder. The demon flung him backwards and into a giant grave stone. He didn't have a chance to think before a hand was around his throat. The demon tightened it's gripped and raised him up onto his knees. Someone screamed in front of him. A glance to the left showed one of the other demons had grabbed Jack and was throwing him across the yard into another gravestone. He tried to yell Jacks name but the grip around his neck was too tight. The demon that had him started to chant in enochian. He recognized the spell immediately. It was the same chant that Alistair had tried to use to banish him all those years ago. How had a low level demon like this one gotten that spell? 

His grace twisted painfully within his vessel as the chant went on. It pulled his grace up and towards his vessels mouth, pooling there in preparation to be thrown out. He could feel his vessel stiffen as he lost control of it's limbs, unable to fight back or shout. For the first time in a long time, he was about to be cast away from this vessel. A vessel that was made specifically for him. Would the vessel survive without an occupant? Would he be able to get it back?

_ “Cas?” _

His grace continued to pool in his mouth as the demon continued chanting. He could feel consciousness slowly leaving him, eyes closing as more and more of his grace pulled out of his body.

“Leave my daughter alone!” 

_ “Cas!” _

“Castiel!”

“Haley!”

_ “Cas wake up!”  _

“Help us!”

_ “Cas!!” _

 

Castiel surged forward, coughing and weezing as air finally filled his lungs. 

“Cas, hey hey it's okay.”

Hands on his shoulders had him jumping into action. Gripping the arms he flipped his opponent. He swung his legs around the body and pinned it down with one hand while the other raised in preparation to punch. 

“Woah woah woah!!! Cas it's me! Dean! It's Dean!” 

His eyes began to adjust, looking down at the body underneath him. Dean looked back up at him, hands in front of his face to protect himself from getting punched. Castiel blinked in confusion. A look to Deans left and right showed that they were in a bed. 

Their bed. Not a graveyard.

 

The old dresser from the thrift shop was still on the left, Deans side of the bed. The bathroom door was wide open like it always was after Dean used it before bed. A buzzing noise was coming from the window above the bed, a fan they had shoved in a few weeks ago when the heat got unbearable still on full speed. The fake plant that Dean had agreed to was still sitting on the night stand of his own side of the bed, a book he had started laying next to it. 

He was at home. His human life home.    

Two large rough hands caressed his face, thumbs running along his cheek bones. “Hey, it's okay. It's going to be okay.”

It was a dream? But, it couldn't have been. He could still feel a throb at the back of his head where it had hit the gravestone.

“Yes it was. It was a dream. You're awake now and you're safe.” 

He shook his head. “What about Jack, the demons. The soul?” Castiel sat back, Deans legs underneath him. “They're in danger?”

Dean sat up, pulling his legs from underneath Castiel just enough to lean against the headboard. “No. No one is in danger. It was a dream and you're awake now. Everything is okay.” He barely registered the hands that touched his bare shoulders before two arms pulled him into a hug. 

“Breath, Cas. It's okay.” 

He finally noticed how fast he was breathing. Breaths coming out fast and harsh, like he had just run a mile at a full sprint. The smell of freshly cut grass from the cemetery was still in his nose, keeping the dream from fading right away. No. There was no way it was just a dream. It had been too real. Far too real. This had to be a dream. Being here, a human, with Dean. He had to wake up, he just had to. Jack’s life depended on it. Gently pulling back from the embrace, he started to climb off of Dean and the bed, the wood floor warm against his bare feet. 

“Where are you going?” Dean asked, concern lacing every word.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. He didn’t want to startle Dean, dream Dean. Lying was the best way to do that. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

“Okay.” Dean, dream Dean, swung his boxer brief clad legs out from the bed, standing. “Do you want me to make you something? Maybe that tea you like?” He asked, walking close and placing his hands against his bare arms again.

The touch felt wrong. Dean felt wrong. The whole room felt wrong. He could feel everything and yet nothing at all. The touch was on his skin but it wasn't on him. The air from the fan was hitting his face but it wasn't hitting him. He wasn't fully there. Because it wasn't real. 

He nodded, blinking down at the floor. “That would be great. Thank you, Dean.”

“Of course.” Dean rubbed his upper arms a few more times before nodding and shuffling out the door for the kitchen. 

The motion left the hairs on his arms to stand up. Every part of him was screaming that he was in the wrong place. That he was supposed to be with Jack and Lailah, collecting souls at full angel power. He didn’t belong here, as a human, living a simple human life. It was never what he was meant for. Never what he was designed or created to do. 

Waiting till he heard the creak from the bottom step signaling Dean had reached the downstairs, he wandered into the bathroom. The light was blinding when he flipped the switch, squinting his eyes in an attempt to block the light as he shut and locked the bathroom door. The longer he was awake, the longer he knew it would take to fall back asleep. It was only logical that falling asleep would send him back. Every time he fell asleep he experienced the other world, this had to be no different. 

Wandering over to the sink, he turned the faucet on, allowing his palms to fill with water. The sound of the running water seemed too harsh on his senses, too loud for such a small room. He had a feeling Dean could hear it from down in the kitchen. He closed his eyes, splashing the water from his hands on his face. The water was warmer than he expected, most likely a side effect from the hot weather. Just another thing to be frustrated about.

Grabbing the towel from the rack next to the toilet, he dried off his face and turned the faucet to off. He looked up, taking in the man staring back at him through the medicine cabinet mirror that hung above the sink. He had dark circles under his eyes, large bags accompanying them. His hair was wild, a side effect of not having a haircut in a while. The stubble on his jaw was a few weeks old for sure, something he was starting to get used to. Moving down his neck, tan lines showed on his shoulders, a violent change in color from covered and uncovered skin. He hated it; all of it.

_ “Castiel?” _

His heart rate sped up, thumping against his chest. Someone was in the room with him. He turned to his left, the shower and its closed curtain the only thing there. Reaching for the curtain he pulled it back quickly. Milo yelped, jumping out of the tub and scurrying towards the shut door, meowing loudly. The shower was empty. He was alone in the bathroom. 

_ “Haley!” _

_ “Mom!” _

_ “Look out!” _

Castiel closed his eyes, breathing picking up as he realized he couldn't do anything. He needed to fall asleep, and now. Milo continued to meowing, causing a headache to form in the front of his skull. Out of frustration, he punched the wall next to the medicine cabinet. The door popped open, a couple of pill bottles falling into the sink startling him. He stepped back, taking in the sight before him. Dean had acquired quite a few bottles over the years and he never questioned it. Every once in a while he would ask Dean for pain killers or sleep aids and Dean would just hand him something. He never asked questions. All of the bottles looked different; one a dark green, another orange, and another white. He picked up each one and read what they were.

The white one was something called ibuprofen. It claimed to help with inflammation and headaches. The dark green one was fish oil claiming to reduce heart disease. The last one was called Zolpidem. It claimed to help with sleep. Immediately, Castiel opened the bottle, dumping a handful of pills onto his palm. A knock on the door had Castiel looking up. Milo continued to meow at the door. 

“Cas? Everything okay?” Dean asked through the locked door.

He clutched the pills tighter in his hand. If he asked Dean for help he may not give him what he needed. He needed to sleep, now. “Yes. Just finishing up. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

The handle jiggled. “Okay. Do you wanna maybe let Milo out?” He asked.

“I....I will when i’m done.” Milo started scratching at the door.  

“Are you sure?” Dean pushed.

“Yes, Dean.” He clipped back, frustration growing the more milo meowed and Dean talked. “He’s just being difficult. He’s fine.”

There was a pause as he waited for Dean to respond, Milo still making too much noise. At first he thought that maybe Dean had left, then Dean coughed and the handle flicked back to its position. “Okay. Your tea is ready downstairs when you’re ready.” It was another thirty seconds before Dean finally shuffled away from the door and out of the room. 

Castiel let out a sigh of relief, opening his palm to study the pile of pills in his hand. The longer he waited the longer it would take for him to fall back asleep. He wasn't sure how many he was meant to take, never counting when Dean gave him some. Deciding that more was better, he turned the sink back on and popped all the pills from his palm into his mouth and swallowed them with a handful of water. Milo stopped meowing immediately, jumping up on the toilet seat, staring at him. 

He frowned down at the cat. “What?” Milo blinked slowly, eyes never leaving him.

_ “Castiel, come on! We need your help here.” _

Castiel gasped. There was a strange sensation that had been flowing through his body since he woke up. On one hand he felt like he could still hear, feel, and smell the graveyard but on the other he knew he was here, a human. The throb on the back of his head was still there as if it was the only thing still tethering him to the other reality. No, the real one. This life wasn't real. It couldn't be.  

His hands gripped the sink, the cold porcelain helping keep him from panicking. He'd be back with Jack and protect him from the demons soon, he just needed to be a little more patient. Waiting a few minutes to allow his heart rate to slow, he gave one last sigh before standing up straight and heading out of the bathroom. 

Dean was sitting on the bed, a cup of tea in his hands. He was half naked only wearing plain black boxers, his slumped shoulders illuminated by the bedside lamp that had been turned on. 

Castiel switched off the bathroom light and made his way over stopping just in front of the hunter. “I thought you were downstairs?”

Dean shrugged, not making eye contact. “I was worried so I brought your tea up here.” He handed the tired ex angel his tea, eyes never leaving the floor. 

“Thank you, Dean.” It was odd for Dean to be acting this way. He wondered if he should say something. 

“Of course, Cas.” His voice sounded far away. “You're family.” 

Castiel frowned. “Are you okay?”

Dean looked up at him this time, eyes hard and emotionless. The sound of a cabinet door slamming downstairs made Castiel jump, turning to look out the opened door. Milo wandered through, sitting and staring at him again. He squinted and tilted his head at the cat. Milo was acting strange too. 

“Castiel.” 

That voice. He turned back towards Dean to find Jack in his place instead. He looked the same as when he died. Blue jeans, blue shirt. Hair long and in his face. But his expression was hard, angry.

“Jack?”

“It's your fault.” The nephilim whispered, brows ruffled in furry.

Castiel shook his head. “No.” He reached out to try and touch Jack, but the nephilim disappeared. Before he could react, Jack was at his right, incredibly close. 

“I hate you!”

He stumbled over, dropping the cup and shuffling back as the nephilim kept his closeness, following with every step he took. 

“I am dead because of you!”

“No!” He yelled, fear racking through his body. His legs gave out, sending him backwards, pain shooting through his head and spine as he slammed against the wall and window.

Jack kneeled in front of him as he panted. “You didn't save me.”

“I'm sorry!”

“You didn't save me and now you're not saving him. Leaving him trapped in his own body while a soul possesses him.”

Castiel closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Everyone hates you, Castiel.”

He could feel his whole body begin to shake. Shoulders and legs shivering violently. His muscles tensed as he tried to stop shaking, gasping for breath with the effort. 

“Cas!” Two hands slid across his face, gripping him and pulling him forward. “Cas look at me!”

He shook his head, terrified to see Jack’s disappointed face again. It was his fault. It was all his fault. Jack was dead because of him. 

“Jack I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Please forgive me!” He begged through his tears. 

“Cas, open your eyes, please!” 

He opened his eyes, a blurry Dean standing in front of him. “Dean?”

“What happened?” The hunter asked, eyes searching all over him as if he was looking for something.

_ “Castiel!” _

He was gasping for breath, eyes fluttering closed from the energy used opening them. A wave of calm washed over him, muscles relaxing allowing his limbs to shake at will. Finally he was going to go unconscious, he could feel it. Smell it. The scent of grass and dirt and tar exploding through him. He was going to be an angel again.

“Cas!”

_ “Castiel! Wake up!” _

“Cas!”

The voices were shouting all around him, each one calling him to a different direction. A voice that sounded like Dean's was coming from his left. It sounded desperate, pleading him to go that way. To be enveloped in a warm embrace. He wanted to follow it, to feel safe and calm. To be free. From what, he wasn't sure, but there was an underlying promise there he wanted to explore. Another was coming from his right, begging for help. For his help. It too was warm, almost hot. Reaching out to try and take him. He wanted to be taken, to be led somewhere, taking his decision for him. It was familiar, the voice, but he couldn't quite place it. 

_ “Help!” _

A woman's voice. She was scared, he could hear it in her tone. Feel it as her cries washed over him. He could help her. 

“Help me!”

Yes. He could help her.

_ “Cas!!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Prescription drug abuse (semi unknowingly)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to know whats next, let me know! 
> 
> Follow the fic on Tumblr too! [@Zeeimpalaangel](http://zeeimpalaangel.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Follow me on Instagram where I post writing updates! [@Zeedali18](https://www.instagram.com/zeedali18/)


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